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WALTER CARTER 

AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

AND 

REMINISCENCE 

1823-1897 



NEW YORK 

THE BAKER AND TAYLOR COMPANY 

33-37 East Seventeenth Street 



t \ c io 



•*£> 



THE LIBRARY OF 

CONGRESS, 
Two Copies Received 

JUN. 26 190) 

Copyright entry 
LASS ft^XXc. Nt» 



UOPVRK 

£ ICLASS * 



COPY B. 



Copyright, 1901, 

BY 

REV. JAMES CARTER. 



ROBERT DRUMMOND, ELECTROTYPER, NEW YORK. 



AN autobiography of Walter Carter, 
written at the solicitation and for 
the entertainment of his children, begins 
this book. It was left unrevised, and is 
presented as it was written. The remain- 
der, the condensed product of a mass of 
material, may afford a word-etching to 
bring again to the vision of his friends the 
bright personality which they have loved 
and ' ' lost awhile. ' ' 
3 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 



I WAS born in the town of Earlstoun, 
Berwickshire, Scotland, on the 19th 
of May, 1823. My father was Thomas 
Carter, and my mother Agnes Ewing, — 
both excellent people. 

My father and his ancestors for many 
generations had been natives of Earlstoun, 
and were noted for great strength of body 
and vigor of mind. My father was one of 
the strongest men I ever knew. He was 
short, thick-set, and had great power in 
his arms. Even in old age, if he had a 
firm standing-place, he could bear almost 
any weight on his back or shoulders. He 
was a great reader and a close thinker. 
He had made up his mind on all the great 
problems of the day, — political, economi- 
cal, and religious, — and held to those 
opinions with great tenacity. I often 
7 



8 Waller Carter. 

looked up to him in wonder tli.it, like 
Goldsmith's parson, "One small head 
could carry all he knew." 

My mother was horn in SproustOf), two 
miles south of Kelso, in Roxburghshire, 
on the Tweed. She was of medium 
height, of fair complexion, had a sunny, 
open countenance, and her children, at 
thought her beautiful, even when 
she left them at the . 

I have been told that, when my 
brought home his bride of twenty sun. 

the neighbors said a handsomer couple 
had seldom hem seen. 

I was the ninth child in a fan 
eleven, all of whom grew up to manhood 

and womanhood, and there 

was no death in the family, my father 
being the first to be (ailed away. My 
father's family, according to their 

were: Thomas, I 

Janet. John. Man-, James, Walter. : 
Isabella. My parents were both earnest 
Christians, and strove to brin;: up their 



Antob iograpJiy . 9 

children in the fear of the Lord. They 
were members of that branch of the 
Presbyterian Church called at that time 
the Anti-Burghers, because they declined 
taking what was called the Burgher oath. 
My earliest recollections are of family 
worship, morning and evening, kneeling 
by my mother's side. This duty was 
never neglected ; for, in the absence of 
my father, my mother always conducted 
the service in his place. My father was 
mighty in prayer, and I often think of him 
with gratitude; but my mother's prayers 
were so tender and loving that they come 
back like a benediction, after a lapse of 
fifty years. 

The first Sabbath-school in the south 
of Scotland was opened in our village 
about the period of my birth. It was held 
in a little stone cottage, thatched with 
straw, built among the ruins of the 
Rhymer's Tower (Thomas the Rhymer 
of Scottish ballads) ; the stones of which 
it was built were taken from the ruins. 



io Walter Carter. 

The Sunday-school was conducted by 
Rev. Mr. Crawford, the " Relief" minister 
of Earlstoun, and brother Robert was one 
of its earliest teachers. It had no library, 
pictorial papers, or helps of that sort. 
The Bible and the Catechism were our 
text-books and they were faithfully 
used. 

At four years of age, I began to attend 
a school taught by brother Robert. It 
was held in a stone cottage on the main 
street of the little village, near the 
" Green." I was a short, stout little fel- 
low in those days. The benches (merely 
a slab with four legs supporting it) were 
all of the same height for large and small 
scholars, and, when I was mounted on one 
of them, I seemed like Mahomet's coffin, 
suspended between heaven and earth. On 
one warm August day, I fell asleep on the 
bench; and, nodding hither and thither, 
soon rolled on the floor. This set the 
school in a titter; and, to punish me for 
the crime as well as to prevent its repeti- 



Autobiography. n 

tion, I got a sound thrashing from the 
teacher's " tawse " (a leather strap). 

My first book was a thin board, whittled 
small at one end, so that my little hand 
could hold it. On one side the A-B-C's 
were pasted, on the other the " a-b, ab's. " 
That board kept me busy for a month or 
two, mastering the rudiments of an Eng- 
lish education; and it was thoroughly 
done. I have known the letters ever 
since, and seldom fail to place them prop- 
erly. At this school I learned to read 
and write. At the age of five I entered 
the parish school, taught by a Mr. Walker 
(brother Robert having gone to the 
Academy of Peebles, to prepare for the 
University of "Edinburgh), and continued 
my studies. He was an excellent teacher, 
and taught the classics, as well as the 
English branches. Brother James became 
a good classical scholar, being two years 
older than I ; and I began Latin before I 
left for America at the age of nine. 

Our house stood near the west end of 



12 Walter Carter. 

the town, the Eildon Hill distant five 
miles on the further side of the Tweed; 
the Black Hill, covered with broom and 
heather, the famous "broom of tin I 
den Knowcs," growing at its foot 
lisle, with its beautiful woods and brier, 
was just above it. It was a beautiful 
Spot, and every tree or bi : 
or stream, had NO 

wonder the Scotchman has a vivid im- 

■ much in liis birth- 
11 it forth. 

and low. The 
shop, in which six hand-la 
adjoined it; fol manu- 

facturii [ham, 

still celeb: • | n all m.i 

hand-looms. We had plenty < >f company. 

• family, w< 
all around us, for the weaver was an In- 
telligent man. He could hai: 
before him. and bile his hands 

were busy. Brother tudied his 

Latin and Greek in that way. 



Autobiography. 13 

We had the best cow in the town, which 
we children took pleasure in herding at 
the pasture, in company with others of like 
occupation. My father had a donkey, 
noted for speed and endurance. Few 
horses could distance him in a three-mile 
race. Two, three, or even four of us 
children would get on ' ' London ' ' (as we 
called him) and ride off a mile or two. I 
remember, on one occasion, I was the last 
of four on his short back. As we went 
into a brook to let him drink, I felt safe, 
for those before me had the pressure; but 
when he turned around to come up the 
hill, I slid off, and fell ignominiously into 
the water, emerging like a half-drowned 
rat, to the no small amusement of the 
bystanders. 

I can recall, at the distance of over half 
a century, a few scenes of school life that 
may interest my children. Saturday after- 
noon was a playtime; but one Saturday 
our teacher asked a few of us to remain 
for an hour, while he read to us Gold- 



14 Walter Carter. 

smith's "Deserted Village." He was a 
very fine reader, and it v. .: treat. 

I think it was the beginning of my 1 

which lias 
given me no small ; all my life. 

( )n another o< « asion he 1 1 in like 

maniit In, 

mother's pi< t 
l 

| 
as a boy to be I I by the 

tance of ten m 

coiled [a 

a flood, tii. at 1< d in I 

tii .11 ha 

I 
on them, and, while near tin 
the smallei i ry well ; I 

the middle of the river, where 
the water v. .. ad the cur: 

I b with my from 

ne, and in jumping I fell in, 

got a good ducking, and might have been 



A utobiography. 1 5 

drowned ; but, clinging to the stone nearest 
the shore I had left, I crawled out, went 
a mile down to the other bridge, and, fol- 
lowing the course of the river, found myself 
in time opposite the steps on the side next 
my destination. 

I found the good farmer at home, and 
he put the money in a paper and gave it 
to me without a receipt, as was customary 
in those simple days. I had never carried 
such a weight in my life, and felt very 
anxious not to lose or be robbed of it. 
As I returned, I considered my way. I 
could not try the steps, with all this 
money. I had never gone by the high- 
way round through the woods. At this 
moment, the bugle of the guard of the 
mail-coach was heard behind me, and the 
coach soon clattered past me at the rate 
of ten miles an hour. I sprang for the 
hind axle, which was, happily, just within 
my reach, and, clinging to it, while my 
little feet pattered along on the road, I 
was whirled a mile or two on my return 



1 6 Walter Carter. 

journey in a very few minutes. As I put 
the money into the master's hand, he laid 
it (the hand) on my head, and with a smile 
and kind word commended my accuracy 
and despatch. 

On another occasion, the cry of "the 
hounds ' ' was heard in the recess hour, 
and the boys rushed pell-mell after the 
red-coated fox-hunters and the hounds. 
Out of the village, over the bridge, on 
over the moor we went; and when two 
miles away, we heard the bell for school. 
Our hearts sank within us, for we knew 
the fate of the truant awaited us. We 
went back with trembling hearts, and each 
got a thorough drubbing with the ' ' tawse ' ' 
before we were permitted to take our seats. 

The discipline was severe; and when 
his anger was aroused, the teacher had no 
mercy; but he was a good teacher, and 
trained many excellent scholars in his 
school. I have often wished that I could 
have had two or three more years with 
him. 



A utobiography. i j 

At the age of eight, an event took place 
which changed the whole current of our 
family history. Brother Robert graduated 
with honor at the Edinburgh University, 
and expected to spend his life in his native 
land as a teacher. He was warmly in- 
dorsed by Prof. Pillans of the university; 
and, on application for appointment to a 
vacant parish school, was cordially re- 
ceived until the committee discovered that 
he was a dissenter in Church matters. 
That spoiled all. He then resolved to go 
to the United States, where both Church 
and State were free. 

Separation was a great trial to our united 
family; but my father had always urged 
the young and strong to go, and he 
acquiesced in the choice made by his son. 
My mother felt it more deeply ; but he left 
with the blessing of both parents. He 
wrote frequently, and, at the end of the 
year, sent for all the family to meet him. 
in New York. 

The steam-looms for weaving- had now 



1 8 Walter Carter. 

taken the place of the hand-looms, so that 
only one out of the six in my father's shop 
was employed, while he had turned his 
attention to other business for the past two 
years. It was an exciting time. A large 
number of weavers went to Canada or the 
United States. Eleven large families left 
our little village at the same time with us, 
all going to Canada. 

Robert had taken our passage to New 
York on the good ship Francis, — the 
vessel in which he had crossed the year 
before, from Greenock to New York. The 
cholera had, in the meantime, broken out 
with great virulence in Great Britain. 
Edinburgh, Glasgow, and Greenock, 
through which we had to pass, were full 
of it, while the vessel sailing for Montreal 
left for America from the west of Scotland, 
where the cholera had not yet come. Our 
neighbors urged us to go with them ; but, 
all the arrangements having been made 
by Robert, we concluded to trust in Provi- 
dence and go boldly on. 



A utobiography. 1 9 

I can recall the farewell visits to friends ; 
the good wishes, the auction sale of house- 
hold goods, as well as of the beloved cow 
and donkey. One visit especially im- 
pressed me. My aunt Isabella had been 
for a lifetime housekeeper at Bemerside 
House, the seat of the ancient family of 
Haig. With my sister Mary, I started to 
spend the day with ' ' Auntie Tibbie, ' ' as 
we called her. We walked the five miles 
in the cool of the morning, ran around the 
farm and park all day, and towards night 
started for home. Aunt showed us the 
gallery of old portraits, the oaken stairs, 
the blood on the old floor which would 
not rub out, being shed in strife between 
brothers, the battlements built breast-high 
to protect the archers from their English 
foes, the grim old helmets and breast- 
plates, the long spears and heavy clay- 
mores of the Scottish infantry; all of which 
made a deep impression on my young 
mind. 

After the fatigue and excitement of our 



20 Walter Carter. 

visit, it will be conjectured that I was not 
very fresh for the five-mile walk home. 
The way was lonely; and, the darkness 
coming on before half the distance was 
accomplished, I utterly gave up, and, 
lying down at the side of the road, refused 
to move. But sister Mary was equal to 
the emergency. Taking a stick from the 
fence, she got me astride of it, and on that 
wooden horse I rode bravely home. 



II. 



BIDDING farewell to friends and kin- 
dred, we started on our pilgrimage 
about the first of April, 1832. At Edin- 
burgh and Glasgow we were entertained 
by friends, but at Greenock we slept in 
a hotel, and during the night heard loud 
groaning in the next room. We were told 
in the morning that a man had died of 
cholera. 

The sea, the ships, the sailors, were all 
novelties, and we entered on our voyage 
with all the enthusiasm of children. But 
next day, as we passed the coast of Ireland, 
a storm came on which laid up the whole 
family with seasickness. For three days 
no one tasted a morsel, and all regretted 
that we had left our quiet home ; but fair 
weather and favorable winds came at last, 



22 Walter Carter. 

and we found many pleasures for the young 
and hopeful in ' ' life on the ocean-wave. ' ' 

I was rather a favorite with the sailors ; 
and, while they were mending the sails, 
or cleaning the deck, I listened with won- 
der to their long yarns, — whether true or 
false, alike wonderful to me. 

In mid-ocean a calm came on, and we 
lay perfectly still. As we began to weary 
of this, the sluggish current of things was 
stirred one day by the appearance of a fine 
turtle, slowly making his way over the 
placid sea. The boat was launched, and 
the mate with half a dozen sailors started 
for the prize. A harpoon was ready, but 
how to get near without attracting atten- 
tion was the question. The mate, a 
powerful man, decided to catch it in his 
arms and take it alive. But just as he 
plunged his arms in the ocean, the turtle 
disappeared down into the depths, and the 
discomfited mate returned crestfallen to 
the vessel. 

After a prosperous voyage of six weeks, 



A utobiography. 2 3 

we caught sight of the Highlands of Nave- 
sink, and soon found ourselves at Sandy- 
Hook, — the first vessel of the spring. 

How lovely and green the first land in 
the new country looked, after a long 
restraint! Staten Island was never better 
appreciated than by our ship's company; 
but our hopes were sadly dashed when, on 
the arrival of the doctor's boat, we heard 
that quarantine for cholera had been estab- 
lished, and it might be six weeks before 
our feet could touch the " sacred soil " of 
the New World. My father made a special 
appeal to be taken off in the boat, to meet 
his long-absent son; and, as he was the 
picture of health, the surgeon thought he 
ran little risk in permitting him to land. 
But now a new difficulty arose; having 
landed, he could not be permitted to re- 
turn, but must wait until the quarantine 
was ended before he could rejoin his family. 
After three days, the doctors again visited 
us, and the passengers, defiling before 
them, gave such proofs of health that they 



24 Walter Carter. 

gave us a "clean bill," and permitted us 
to come up to the city in a lighter, while 
the ship lay at anchor until she could be 
fumigated and cleaned. 

The sail up the lower bay on a fine May 
morning was delightful. We landed at 
quarantine on Staten Island, and were 
detained for some reason for a few hours, 
and there first touched the soil of the land 
that was destined to be our future home. 
From there to New York was a continual 
wonder; the little steamboats, light and 
cheerful, not grimy with coal-smoke like 
those now used ; the breadth and activity 
of the bay; the air of eagerness that dis- 
tinguishes a Yankee crowd, — all were new 
and interesting. We landed at the foot 
of Cedar Street, North River ; not crowded, 
as now, with ponderous Atlantic steamers, 
but partially occupied with sloops like our 
own. The tide was low, and it required 
a climb to get up from the sloop. A 
colored man held out his hand to help me 
up; but I was not then familiar with his 



Autobiography. 25 

race, and visions of the Evil One pressed 
upon my mind, so I turned and fled. 

Some one helped me up; and then 
came the question where we should go in 
this strange city. Father and brother 
Robert had gone down by the steamboat 
to the ship, not knowing that the passen- 
gers had left. One of our number inquired 
for Liberty Street and Grant Thorburn's 
store, to which our letters had been ad- 
dressed; and soon we were on our way 
across the city, and had a cordial welcome 
from the old gentleman. 

Soon Robert arrived, and we found that 
he had places provided for us, and, for the 
last time, I think, in our family history, 
father and mother and the eleven children 
were all for a brief space under one roof. 
We thanked God and took courage ; His 
providential care had been greater than we 
knew, for our neighbors who went to 
Canada were eleven weeks in crossing the 
ocean, landing in Montreal in the heat of 
July; the cholera was already before them, 



26 Walter Carter. 

and many of them perished. In om 
family, very much like our own, both 
father and mother and all the children 
except one little boy died before they 
reached their destination in Upper Canada, 

We spent two days in New York; 
then, putting our b 
River tow 1 up the ri-. 

Albany, a trip <>f twenty-four hours. 
Everything was new; th< on the 

. tin- small barns and cattle, the 
light wagons u 

little boats, the noble ri\er. the I 
before us, so bright t-> our your 

tions, made the trip a continual ovation. 

My two eldest broth* rs and m; 
eldest si-t* rs r< maincd in N 

>med to city life; but our family 

(father and mother and s< ven children) 

till large enough to prevent loneli- 

At Albany we were met by half a 
farmers with their farm- 
take our 1 and ourselves up to 
Charlton, Saratoga County, wh< 



Autobiography. 27 

had prepared a cottage for us, — a ride of 
twenty-seven miles almost due north from 
Albany. 

Father and mother were comfortably 
seated in the family wagon of an old 
Scotchman, while the younger ones en- 
joyed their ride with Captain Hollowell, 
a Scotchman's son. He was delighted 
with the broad Scotch brogue, and asked 
questions on all imaginable subjects. We 
dined at Schenectady, and crossed the 
Mohawk on a flatboat, horses, wagon, 
and all. This was quite a new mode of 
navigation, and we felt doubtful of the 
issue; but all landed safely on the other 
side. At dark, we were left at the hos- 
pitable home of an old neighbor who had 
preceded us two years and who felt like 
an old resident. After two days, we were 
taken to our cottage, our luggage arranged, 
and such new furniture purchased as might 
be needed ; but for weeks we could not 
realize that we were off the ship, and that 



2S Walter Carter. 

objects would stand upright without up- 
setting. 

enter on a farm, my fat], 
of the field, and made hin 
the :. [ n t ] lc 

new | 

' 
from i 

me to hi : 

months, until tl 

1 could not tun 
auspia 

ofdutj 

ml I 

principles of the old lad; 



A u tobiography . 2 9 

overhaul me pretty sharply when I went 
astray, I do not know but I should have 
been spoiled. We had a blind horse, 
" Old Tom, " and a cart which I drove all 
over the farm with the old gentleman, and 
he would tell the neighbors, to my satis- 
faction, how many steps I saved him in 
the twenty-four hours. The eldest daugh- 
ter, as she saw me following her father 
through the field, would say, " There goes 
Jacob and Benjamin, the son of his old 
age." 

In December, I went to the district 
school, and, though but nine years of age, 
found that in spelling and reading I was 
far superior to the farmers' sons much 
older than myself, — accomplishments 
which have been useful to me ever since. 

In the spring of 1834, we removed four 
miles northwest, to the town of Galway, 
Saratoga County, where we remained all 
the time I remained in the country. 
Brother John was the head man on the 
farm, and kept Peter and myself steadily 



30 Walter Carter. 

at work. We were hearty and sound in 
body and mind, and the years passed 
pleasantly on. 

Both father and mother were great 
readers, and I inherited this taste. We 
had brought a good library with us, — a 
good investment, as books were then 
scarce in America. The wet days and 
the long evenings were spent in this way. 
In 1838, John left us, and at the early age 
of fourteen I was left in charge of the farm. 
Father had never taken kindly to farm- 
work, and was advancing in years, and 
had the theory that a man who had worked 
up to sixty years should spend the remain- 
der of his life in trying to benefit his fellow 
men, and in preparing for the world that 
is to come. 

He was a sturdy anti-slavery man, and 
our house was one of the stations of the 
' ' underground railway. ' ' I remember one 
Sabbath morning, as we were kneeling at 
family prayer (it was winter, the ther- 
mometer was near zero, and the snow 



Autobiography. 31 

was deep) we heard the back door opened 
and closed. When we rose from our 
knees, we saw, shrinking against the wall, 
with a hunted look on his face, a large 
negro, his hair and clothing covered with 
snow. He was provided with a bountiful 
meal, which he devoured with the voracity 
of a half-starved man. My father ordered 
the best horse in the stable to be harnessed, 
and (for the only time I can remember) 
left his family to go to church without 
him, while he drove away northward with 
the fugitive. He did not return until 
nightfall. I remember my father's prayer 
that night, and his cry, ' ' How long, O 
Lord, how long shall this cursed traffic be 
carried on ? " It made slavery more real 
to us than years of talking or reading- 
He was also a zealous temperance man, 
or ' ' teetotaler " as it was then called, 
and took his part in all reforms at public 
meetings and elsewhere. 

I had, therefore, to plough and to sow, 
go to market, and in all things take the 



32 Walter Carter. 

place of a man. I was bashful and 
modest, and while it was no trouble f<>r 
me to do i h • work, being 

neither lame nor la: ; 

»r business was pretty trying. 
I have no d : me, forc- 

ing me "i:t into the world wh< 
ings would ' I me quiet! 

My mother I me hei Little man, 

and say if I 

into deep \ thrown in I 

would in 
In i 

left al< : ' hired 

help a 
mother, m) 

her little hoy, with my 

Isabella, at that tin home 

family. 1 I 

satisfaction to th I knew 

their old age, and II I of any 

life but that on a farm,— was L^ntcntcd 



Autobiography. 33 

with my position, and thankful for my 
mercies. I had gotten all the educational 
privileges of a country school, and my 
evening reading (books being freely sup- 
plied from New York) made me a well- 
read man among my fellows. We had a 
debating club at the schoolhouse, and 
that drew me out of my shell to discuss all 
manner of questions with the neighboring 
farmers and others who might visit us. 

For twelve years I remained on the old 
farm in Saratoga County, with my father 
and mother, contented and happy. I had 
good, sound health, plenty of hard work, 
was my own master, fond of horses and 
cattle, enthusiastic in what seemed likely 
to be my life-work, a voracious book- 
worm, with my father's library and a good 
supply from brother Robert's book-store 
of the more modern literature. But a 
great crisis in my life was at hand, and 
came upon me before I was aware. 



III. 

IN March, 1 844, I had been drawing saw- 
logs to the mill to repair and enlarge 
our farm-buildings, and finished one day 
in time to drive over to the post-office at 
Galway for the New York mail. I found 
a long foolscap letter from brother Robert, 
stating that brother James had broken 
down in health from close confinement to 
business, and had gone South for his 
health. If I wanted to change my life- 
work and come to the city, I might take 
his place so far as I could. I read it with 
surprise, but had no idea of accepting the 
offer. I was satisfied with my work, was 
a good farmer, and had some doubts 
whether I should ever be a good anything 
else. I was the only son at home, and 
how could I leave my father and mother 
in their old age ? 

When I came home I, as usual, read 
34 



Autobiography. 35 

the letter to my father and mother. Mother 
exclaimed at once: "Walter, you're not 
going to leave us ? " I said : ' ' No, I 
have never thought of it ; " but father said : 
"I don't know, let us consider it." The 
drouth had been very severe for three 
years and the crops poor; the prospect 
for a young farmer in the East was very 
discouraging. Brother John had been 
talking of coming home, and we had 
thought of buying more land and going 
on together. After talking the matter 
over, I said: " Let John come home, and 
let me accept this opening and try New 
York." 

I wrote to brother John, and he was 
glad to come home. New York was a 
sort of El Dorado to a young man ; for- 
tune and fame seemed to lie there. My 
father said : " You have good health, good 
habits, a good education, a taste for read- 
ing. You have read a great deal, so you 
are as well fitted for the book business as 
any of your brothers." It was a trying 



36 Walter Carter. 

time. The change was very great. To 
leave a good home, after having been 
petted and praised by all around, and go 
in as a boy at the foot of the class, and at 
twenty-one learn the A-B-C of a new 
business was a serious matter. 

I shall never forget the fervent prayers 
of my father and mother as I left the home 
of my childhood and youth on the morning 
of March 18th, 1844. It was a dreary 
March day. The snow had been deep; 
the roads drifted full; a thaw had lasted 
for some days, and the level snow had 
melted and the mud was deep; but half 
the way was full of snow-banks, soft and 
slumpy. Neither sleigh nor wagon could 
go through ; so putting a few necessaries 
into a bag which I strapped behind the 
saddle, I mounted and rode fifteen miles 
to Schenectady, to take the train. A 
little Welshman walked down and rode 
the horse back. It took five hours, as I 
could not go over such roads faster than 
a walk. 



Autobiography. 37 

Brother Robert had directed me to 
come down by the Albany boat, if the 
river was open ; if not, to take the Albany 
and Boston Railroad to Pittsfield; then 
down the Housatonic Railroad to Bridge- 
port; then take the boat to New York. 
My first question at Schenectady was: 
' ' Is the river open ? " " Not yet, ' ' was 
the reply, ' ' but a boat is trying to get 
through, and may be up to-night." I 
stayed with a friend all night, and found 
in the morning that the river was open, 
and a boat would leave Albany at two 
o'clock. After breakfast I took the cars 
to Albany, carrying my bags. I called 
on a schoolfellow in Albany, who took me 
to dinner and then to the New York boat 
and said: "Good-bye." I then felt I 
was alone, had left the last of my country 
friends. 

We left the docks with difficulty through 
great cakes of floating ice; and for miles 
down the river the great side-wheels 
crushed through the ice with a loud, grat- 



38 Walter Carter. 

ing sound. I made my supper from the 
lunch I had brought from home; and so 
my fare was all I had to pay, one dollar. 
Our progress was slow ; we left Albany at 
2 P.M. and it was 9 A.M., March 20th, 
when we reached Cortlandt Street, and 10 
before, a very hungry man, I got my 
breakfast at 88 Watts street. My bill for 
the trip was $1.50. 

I found my brother had left for the store 
at an early hour; my sister-in-law was In 
great trouble about the severe illness of 
her little baby boy, now Robert Carter, Jr. 
The doctors had almost given him up and 
his aunt Annie had been sent for to help 
in nursing him in his illness. After break- 
fast your aunt Jane asked me to come up 
to the second-story front room, where the 
sick child was. Little did I think whom 
I should meet there. I saw your mother 
for the first time, her who has been my 
good angel ever since. She had the sick 
child in her arms and was trying to hush 
him to sleep. I remember after all these 



Autobiography. 39 

years just how she looked and what she 
had on. She wore a lavender or helio- 
trope dress, with a spreading vine running- 
over it, buttoning up to the neck, with a 
little red ribbon and white linen collar; 
her hair as she always wore it, through all 
fashions, parted in the middle and carried 
smoothly back behind the ears. She re- 
ceived me modestly and kindly; and from 
that time we were fast friends, only friends 
for years, neither of us dreaming of any- 
thing else. What an influence she had on 
my life, God alone knows. After my 
dear mother, no human being has had such 
a power over me ; and that influence was 
always exerted for all that was pure and 
holy, upright and sincere. 

I entered on my new life buoyant and 
full of hope. I looked around me carefully 
to study the secret of success. I found 
that wealth was the object of worship on 
the part of the multitude; and I studied 
the character and qualifications of the suc- 
cessful men. In 1844 a pamphlet was 



40 Walter Carter. 

published with a list of the "rich men of 
New York," all who had over $100,000. 
To my surprise, brother Robert was down 
for $100,000. We had not realized how 
rapidly he was growing wealthy. A 
number had a million, but only three had 
over a million. The richest man in 
America was John Jacob Astor, with 
$9,000,000. Stephen Whitney had 
$6,000,000 and James Lenox $3,000,000. 
I knew and re -. Lenox, who 

was always doing good with his money. 
He felt that he was the Lord's steward, 
and he held his money in trust for Him. 
lie bought a great many good books and 
gave them away, and no good cause was 
left by him unaided. Stephen Whitney 
came in occasionally, very pleasant and 
courteous. Mr. Astor I had never 
and I was anxious to sec him. I thought 
to myself: "I have good health, no bad 
habits, a good business education, a good 
social position, I am prudent and ceo- 



A utobiography. 4 1 

nomical, and I cannot see why I should 
not in due time be a millionaire. ' ' 

One day I was sent on an errand up- 
town from our store in Canal Street, and 
as I passed above Prince Street I saw an 
old, feeble man coming out of a two-and- 
a-half-story brick house, a man supporting 
him on either side. As he came down the 
steps to a plain carriage, he missed his 
footing and came near falling, and, as he 
turned his face to the man on that side, 
he seemed so angry that I thought that 
the possession of $9,000,000 would not 
compensate for the evil temper the face 
betrayed. On my way homeward I had 
some solemn thoughts on the great pur- 
pose of life. 

On my return to the store I found all 
busy, packing boxes to go by the Albany 
boat at 6 P.M. It was then 5, and the 
porter was called to take the boxes down 
on his hand-cart to the boat. Irish Tom 
was a good old man, very poor; he was 
often run into by the drays and his cart 



4 2 Walter Carter. 

broken, and a subscription would be taken 
up to pay for repairs. When at leisure he 
was fond of reading his New Testament, 
which was well thumbed. As I was the 
last clerk, I was sent to find Tom, who had 
disappeared. At last I found him behind 
a pile of boxes, reading his New 
ment. I called: "Tom, hurry, hurry! 
Get ready for t' I plied BO 

cheerfully, so happily: "Ohl Mr. Walter, 
just one moment; hear this one promise," 
and he read one of the sweet promj 

I. That night in review i 
day, I offered the prayer, "Rati: 
Father, the position of old Tom than that 
of Mr. Astor." I have never for 
this scene, and have never repented of my 
choice. After all. Agur's prayer was a 
grand one: •• Give me neither \ 
rich i 

What changes have come over the 
city in those fifty years! The men who 
do tin and the mode of doing are 

changed. The rush of New York I 



Autobiography. 43 

constantly turning up something new, and 
the lapse of years has swept away the 
active brains that guided the current of 
business half a century ago. In those 
days it was "early to bed, and early to 
rise." The store was opened at 7 A.M. 
and closed at 9 P.M. The notion of eight 
hours for a day's work had not then been 
thought of. No city express carried our 
bundles ; but the younger clerks collected 
the books from the publisher, and, if the 
package was large, brought them up on 
top of the omnibus. 

The largest publishing house was Har- 
per Bros. The four brothers had each 
his own department, and it was well 
managed. Daniel Appleton & Co. con- 
sisted of the old gentleman and his four 
sons. Wra. S. Appleton is the sole sur- 
vivor, so far as I know, of the publishers 
of that day. The Harpers were then 
where their children and grandchildren are 
now, in Cliff Street and Franklin Square, 
then Pearl Street. The Appletons were 



44 Walter Carter. 

at 200 Broadway, near Fulton Street. 
Mark II. Newman (founder of the Ivison 
house), Saxton, and Miller & Leavitt were 
on Broadway within a block of the Apple- 
tons. Most of the school-book and blank- 
book houses were on or near Pearl \ 

The Free Church of Scotland, after 
years of struggle with the British Govern- 
ment, made their exodus from the old 
church in 1 843. As they left their 
churches and manses behind them 
had to build at once over four hunt:: : 

them; and, after an heroic 1 ffort at home, 
they sent a deputation to the United 
in the spring of [844, to ask help from 
their countrymen hen inningham 

and Burns ami Rev. \V. Chalmers arrived 
just as I came to town, all able men. My 
father and mother had watched this move- 
ment with intense interest, and I was well 
I as to the grand event. 

On the evening of the first Sabbath I 
spent in town, your mother and I went to 
hear Dr. Burns in the Reformed Dutch 



Autobiography. 45 

Church in Lafayette Place. The large 
church was crowded with a splendid audi- 
ence. It seemed as if every Scotchman 
in town was there, and eager to hear. 
Scotchmen, as leading citizens in New 
York, bore a far larger proportion to the 
population then than now. The German 
hosts had then hardly begun ; and of late 
years the Scotch have been going more 
largely to Australia, Canada, and South 
Africa than to New York. The splendid 
stand for Christ's crown and covenant 
taken by the Free Church had moved the 
Scottish blood in all lands, and the en- 
thusiasm was irrepressible. 

Dr. DeWitt of the Reformed Dutch 
Church presided and introduced Dr. Burns. 
He was an immense man, and with his 
Geneva gown seemed larger still ; he was 
a grand, good man ; and from that hour I 
loved him, and he was a warm friend. 
He spoke of the sacrifice the Free Church 
was making for the liberty of the Gospel, 
and asked for the sympathy and the prayers 



46 Walter Carter. 

of the American people in her behalf. 
Before he got through, he turned his back 
on his audience, and strode slowly back 
across the large platform, and sat down 
on the sofa, speaking all the time. Dr. 
Burns gave out his text, Solomon's Song, 
n. II, 12, "Lo, the winter is past, the 
rain is over and gone: tin- flowers appear 
on the earth : the time of the singing of 
birds is come, and the voice of the turtle 
is heard in the land. ' ' I shall neve. 
that sermon, nor could the dear one who 
heard it with me. It was like a trumpet- 
call to duty; it had a power over me then, 
and it has now. 

One of the greatest dangers to which a 
young man don his arrival in a 

great city is the lack of a home with its 
privileges and restraints. I wa .s spared 
this by coming at once from the dear old 
home in the country, to a well-ordered 
Christian home in brother Robert's house 
in the city. Brother Peter, although 
younger than I, had been two years there 



Autobiography. 47 

before me, and had found a circle of Chris- 
tian companions where I was cordially- 
received. My sister Nancy's house was 
always open to me and I spent many an 
hour free from temptation beside her. 
It is a great blessing to be one of a large 
family, and find sympathy and counsel 
from those of our own flesh and blood to 
cheer us among the trials and cares and 
disappointments of life; when we can in 
safety do good, and get good, help and 
be helped, as we encounter so much that 
is likely to lead the young and ardent 
astray. 

Among the many great and good men 
whom I met at this time, your grandfather 
Thomson probably exercised the greatest 
power over me. He was in the house at 
Inwood or Kingsbridge, where he died six 
years later. A simple, plain man, his face 
beaming with love to God and man. 
Grandmother Thomson you can remem- 
ber, and you knew and loved the dear old 
saint. After the novelty of my surround- 



48 Walter Carter. 

ings had passed away, I began to get very 
homesick; and, as the spring with its 
freshness and greenness came on, I was 
seized with a longing desire to get out into 
the country. One April day, as your 
grandfather was getting into the carriage 
after dinner at S3 Watts Street, he said : 
"Walter, won't you jump in and go out 
with me and stay over Sabbath ? " I was 
only too glad to go and see the beautiful 
home and the charming family in such 
good company. 

I enjoyed even- moment; the country 
air, the lovely upper part of the island, 
the green grass, the blossoming trees, the 
early blossoms, the budding flowers in the 
garden and fields, filled my heart with 
thankfulness and praise. 1 had often 
wondered what could be the source of the 
influence this good man exerted on all 
around him, and I found it then. I rose 
earl)- and strolled through the garden, 
reading my Bible on that lovely Sabbath 
morning. The birds were singing, the 



Autobiography. 49 

squirrels leaping from tree to tree, and all 
nature was glad ; the dining-room window- 
was wide open, and inside sat the dear, 
good man with his large Bible open and 
his face glowing with happiness. I was 
told that he sat there every morning from 
five to seven, communing with his God. 
I had a grand time, and went back to my 
duties refreshed and strengthened, and in 
some measure prepared for the great trial 
that lay before me. 

For forty years we had not had a death 
in the family; father, mother, and eleven 
children were all spared to each other. 
My father never had even a headache all 
his life, — a strong and healthy old man. 
The previous winter he had some premoni- 
tory symptoms of heart-disease ; but when 
I left in March he seemed likely to last 
for years. I think on May 10th, he rose 
as usual in the morning and took his 
breakfast of oatmeal at eight, and an hour 
after he was gone. Such a sudden call 
and such a shock to us all! To him it 



50 Walter Carter. 

was a great relief: "Instant glory, " in- 
stead of a lingering illness. He was 
"aye ready " to meet his Lord. He had 
been looking for and longing for his Lord 
to come, and was ready when th 
came to enter into the joy. This was the 
first break; but, before a year had p 
Thomas in August, and James in tl 
lowing February had gone t<> meet the 
dear father in the kingdom <»f heaven. 

Janus was still in the South, and 
Thomas in Pittsburgh at the head of a 
prosperous business. James hurried home, 
and spent the summer with mother, much 
to her comfort in h< :nent. 

I went up with James, and spent two 
weeks with mother in the old home. 
Those were t< > n.e \(iy Solemn 1 

hail all my life 1 to read my Bibl 

pray, keeping holy the Sabbath; Loth 
father and mother, believing me a child 
of God and an heir of heaven, had pressed 
and prayed me to unite with the visible- 
Church ; but a deep feeling of un worthiness 



Autobiography. 51 

had kept me back, a dread of proving a 
hypocrite and a backslider ; but the com- 
forts and promises that cheered my soul 
in this great trial made me to see my 
privileges and my duty, and I joined the 
dear old Scotch church by profession of 
my faith and rejoiced in the sense of for- 
giveness and grace and salvation. In 
looking back over the fifty years, I bless 
God for His mercy to me a sinner, that 
He found for me a place in His earthly 
home and has ever since cheered me with 
the hope of an inheritance incorruptible, 
undefiled, and that fadeth not away. 

The business in which I was engaged 
brought me into contact almost daily with 
the best men and women of the city and 
country. Brother Robert's object in life 
was to publish only such books as were 
elevating and useful; and, as he was the 
pioneer in that business, he brought those 
of like sympathies around him. On Mon- 
day mornings the evangelical ministers of 
all denominations came in, and we had 



52 Walter Carter. 

rare opportunities for improvement. I 
have always regarded it as one of the 
tokens of God's favor that He placed me 
so early in life amid such surround 
Would that I had improved my < 
tunity to His glory and to my temporal 
and eternal good. 

My father was a good deal disappointed 
to find in this free country millions of men 
created in the Likeness of God, who 

held in cruel bondage; audit made him 
look back to his native land at times with 
a good deal of regret that he had bl 
such a Large family into a Land of such 
. that still held one-fifth 
of its population in slavery. For these 
and other reasons he never became a citi- 
zen by naturalization. As his beta 
uralized while some of his sons were under 
age would have made them citizc : 
resolved to let them have th< 
choice. He die! before his youngest son 
was twenty-one. 

In 1844 occurred one of the most excit- 



Autobiography. 53 

ing elections ever held in this country, 
and I became at once warmly enlisted in 
promoting the election of Henry Clay. 
The Thomson family were all on fire with 
enthusiasm. Your uncle Mason Thom- 
son was a marshal on horseback at the first 
political procession I ever saw. National 
Hall, in Canal Street near our store, was 
open every night; and after the store 
closed for the night, I would often go in 
with a crowd of friends and hurrah for 
Henry Clay. This soon led me to think 
that I must vote for him, and I was 
naturalized in the Marine Court, Novem- 
ber 3d, 1844. Your mother that was to 
be took a warm interest in this, and I 
found her a safe adviser. This led me to 
take a warmer interest in public affairs 
than I had ever done before. I had lived 
under the administrations of Andrew Jack- 
son, Martin Vanburen, and James K. 
Polk; but Vanburen was the only one I 
had ever seen. He came into our store 
with his kinswoman, Mrs. Throop Martin ; 



54 Walter Carter. 

and we had a good talk of an hour with 
him, much to our satisfaction. His son 
John, years after this, used to come in fre- 
quently. I have since seen President 
Pierce, Zachary Taylor, Millard Fillmore, 
Buchanan, Lincoln, Grant, Garfield, 
Hayes, Cleveland, and Harrison. 

Our store, 289 Broadway, was under 
the Irving House, the leading hotel of 
those days, where the leading politicians 
used to congregate. I used to go in there 
in the evenings when some celebrated 

character was there, and get a good look 

at him. Thus I saw Clay, W< 

and Generals Taylor and Scott. I 

had short legs and a long body, Scott 
long legs and a short body. Taylor was 

great on horseback, Scott on foot. 

( >ne morning a great crowd collected in 
front of our door, and I went out I 
what was the matter. Kossuth had just 
escaped from Austrian tyranny by an 
American ship and brought to this coun- 
try, 185 1. He had been the president of 



A utobigroaphy. 5 5 

the Hungarian Republic, and had mastered 
the Austrian monarchy and secured the 
liberties of Hungary. But Russia with 
her barbarian hordes had come to the help 
of Austria, and the traitor Gorgei had 
surrendered to the allied army, and Kos- 
suth had to flee. He landed on Staten 
Island in December in cold, frosty 
weather ; he was the idol of the hour, and 
crowds welcomed him wherever he went. 
In a heavy overcoat lined with fur and a 
" Kossuth hat " he stood on the balcony 
over my head and addressed the applaud- 
ing crowd. I stood in the cold for half 
an hour and listened to his splendid 
oratory. He had in his Austrian prison 
a copy of Shakespeare and an English and 
German dictionary, and had become a 
master of the English tongue. 

About this time I went to Washington 
for the first time, 1853, and saw the Presi- 
dent, Pierce, the Senate, and House of 
Representatives. It was the golden period 
of great men. In the Senate I saw and 



$6 Walter Carter. 

heard Seward, Sumner, Benton, Jefferson 
Davis, Cass, Webster, and a crowd of 
others. I had seen Seward in Albany, 
when he was Governor of New York, and 
felt interested in him. Sumner had deliv- 
ered his great lecture in the Broadway 
Theatre. He was a fine-looking man, 
and dressed well, though fearfully con- 
ceited ; but all his eccentricities were 0V< r- 
looked when Preston Brooks, like a brute, 
struck him down with a cane. The lines 
were drawing closer between North and 

South, and the irrepressible conflict for 
liberty or slavery was soon t 
blood. The race of giants was fast pass- 
ing away, and I was glad to See them ere 
they passed away from the scene of action, 

and to hear their v< I did with 

man)- of them, en- the}- were silenced 

forever. 

My father was one of the original tem- 
perance men. and the family have all fol- 
lowed in the same line; he was also, like 
most Scotchmen, an Abolitionist. So I 



A utobiography. 5 7 

heard Garrison, Greeley, and John B. 
Gough with deep interest. The latter had 
only begun his grand career when he was 
drugged and fell. We mourned over his 
fall and prayed most fervently for his 
restoration. When it was announced that 
he would speak again in the Broadway 
Tabernacle, the liquor interest was 
aroused, and Isaiah Rynders, captain of 
the Tammany Empire Club, boldly de- 
clared that he would lynch him if he 
attempted to speak. Two hundred young 
men volunteered to protect him, and with 
stout hickory canes your uncle Peter and 
I sat with the crowd, armed ready for the 
fray. He was unusually eloquent; and, 
after speaking half an hour, fires were 
kindled in the street and men were shout- 
ing. A woman fainted in the audience 
and we sprang to our feet with our 
cudgels ; but it was a false alarm, and he 
got safely to the end. 

Anthony P. Halsey, president of the 
Bank of New York, was one of the active 



58 Walter Carter. 

Christian workers of that earlier day. One 
winter evening- on his May up town lie 
called at the store with a Sunday-school 
missionary who was spending a week with 
him. Mr. Halsey was married to a sister 
of A. R. Wetmore, the noble first presi- 
dent of th( rk City Mission, and 
so his house was naturally a resort for all 
missionaries. Mr. Halsey introduced his 
friend as Rev. Mr. Chid law, of the Ameri- 
can Sunday-school Union, laboring in 
Ohio. He has been a sort <>f life-long 
friend to us all. Born in Wale-, he came 
in early life to ( foio, and probably founded 
more Sunday-schools than any living man. 
He sal .it our table, talked with our chil- 
dren, preached in our church, and hi 
in every good work. In a good ol( 
he left us for the mansion in the skies, two 
years ago. He was rich in spiritual 
things, and by his conversation and ex- 
ample he "shone as a light in the world, 
holding forth the word of life. " 

To return to my life in the store, we 



Autobiography. 59 

had the best of companionship, and old 
and young were kind, intelligent, and 
most of them Christians. A good old 
elder of the Spring Street Church, Mr. 
Steele, showed me a great deal of atten- 
tion, and his conversation was helpful. 
He was over eighty, but cheerful and 
kindly as a young man. He was a rever- 
ent and careful reader of the Scriptures, 
and he used the ' ' sword of the Spirit ' ' 
with a skill that showed he had perused it 
for himself. He was a retired dry-goods 
merchant and knew men and things. 
Another, my old friend Mr. Joseph 
McKee, whose children are still with us, 
used to call almost every week as he came 
up from down-town with supplies. He 
was a Covenanter elder and a great 
admirer of McCheyne, whom he read 
almost every day after his Bible. He 
went down deep into the treasures of the 
Word, and brought up things new and 
old. I am trying in my old age to make 
some return for what I received by draw- 



60 Walter Carter. 

ing the young people nearer to Christ, and 
it is my meat and drink to help some weak- 
young disciple nearer to the Master and 
His work. 

As I came to take, as far as I could, 
brother James' place in the store. I found 
I was expected to take his place in some 
measure in the house and in the church 
and Sunday-school. He had a fine class 
of boys— nine or ten of them—from ten 

to fourteen year right, intell 

boys from Christian families, and those 
that arc living have all turned out Well. 

Years after, while I was lamenting to one 
of the older hoys my unfitness for the 
office of teacher, he- said: "Why, Mr. 
Cuter, it was a splendid class. an d a 
splendid teacher, and see what th< 
now - You Wer and a Sunday- 

school superintendent. ( >fthe boys, three 
are ciders and two are superintendents of 
Sunday-schools." 

We had a very tine Sabbath-school and 
an excellent teachers' meeting on Wednes- 



Autob iography . 6 1 

day evenings, when the Sunday-school 
lessons were thoroughly discussed, and 
the teachers taught, which was of great 
service to me. Dr. McElroy, our pastor, 
was still in his prime, and his sermons 
were a blessing to many. Take him all 
in all, he was about the best preacher I 
ever heard, and I have heard many. He 
never wrote his sermons, but spoke "off 
loof, " as the Scotch say. His sermons 
were thoroughly studied, and he used all 
the aids that were really helpful ; but the 
Bible and Matthew Henry were his main 
reliance. He was in dead earnest, and 
his hearers felt it with power. 

I had always been what was called a 
bashful boy. I shrunk from public duty, 
and declined speaking or praying in public. 
But this had to be broken through, and 
brother Robert spoke to me about it, as 
he was our Sunday-school superintendent. 
I told him I could not lead in prayer in so 
large and intelligent a school, and he 
seemed to submit; but one rainy night at 



62 Walter Carter. 

teachers' meeting-, when few gentlemen 
were present, we all knelt down and he 
said, " Will Walter lead in prayer?" I 
whispered my declinature, but we still 
knelt in silence until I was constrained to 
go on. 

A little later, I was pressed to volunteer 
service in the City Mission, under Rev. 
Mr. Grey of the Fourteenth Ward, and he 
was in the habit of calling on me for a 
word of exhortation or prayer. He was 
taken ill, and was laid aside for six weeks, 
while I took his place as far as I could. 
He was very grateful ; and when I called 
to see him, "What can I do for you for 
all this kindness ? " he asked. I replied: 
"Never call on me to speak in meeting 
or pray." He said: "That will never 
do; it would be a great injury to you and 
to our work. You must promise me never 
to decline when asked." I would not 
promise, but I think I have never since 
declined. 

We had some queer specimens among 



A tit o biography. 6 3 

our workers, and they needed careful 
management. It was in 1845, or 1S46, 
that we had cottage prayer-meetings in 
various tenement-houses, and the workers 
spoke and prayed, Rev. Mr. Grey presid- 
ing. The old and new school Presby- 
terians united with others in the work, and 
there was still a good deal of bitterness in 
some of them. One old elder from the 
new school seemed to feel that he had a 
mission to convert me as a younger brother 
who had gone astray, and one evening he 
insisted on arguing the matter before the 
meeting began. This rather annoyed 
me, and I said : ' ' Let us leave this till the 
close of the meeting, and then we can 
have it out. ' ' He said : ' ' Will you wait 
then ? " I said I would. In the meeting, 
Mr. Grey asked the old elder to lead in 
prayer, and he poured out his soul, con- 
fessing our sins, saying that we were help- 
less in our work without divine aid, and 
asking forgiveness and grace to help us in 
this time of need. It was a good old- 



64 Walter Carter. 

school prayer, and he was a good man. 
As the meeting closed, he said to me: 
' ' Now let us have it out. ' ' I said : ' ' We 
have had it out; I will take your prayer 
as our joint confession of faith, and noth- 
ing further is needed." He was quite 
surprised, but could not deny his prayer, 
and we were ever after fast friends. 

I learned a great deal of charity for 
other denominations by working thus to- 
gether with others; and anything that 
might have seemed rigid in my early 
training was easily rubbed off, while the 
sturdy backbone of Calvinism or rather 
Pauline theology. I hope, remains intact. 
I low important to hold the " Unit)- of the 
Spirit in the bond of peace ! " I thank 
God daily for my early training in Bible 
and Catechism, and also that your mother 
had a like training, which with her clear 
logical mind enabled her to grasp the 
truth and hold it without doubting to the 
end. Grandfather Thomson was very 
unlike your grandfather Carter, but they 



Autobiography. 65 

were alike in this: Both had been early 
taught to reverence the Word and to hold 
sacred all that it taught without wavering ; 
and the two grandmothers were helpmeets 
in. bringing up their children "in the 
nurture and admonition of the Lord." 

Although I was wonderfully sheltered 
from temptation by my surrounding in 
the store and in the home, I had still 
enough of evil in my own heart and in the 
world around to warn me to be constantly 
on the watch. I was natural!}- of a social 
disposition and fond of society-, old or 
young. Among the many homes that 
were open to me and brother Peter, there 
was one old Scotch couple, an elder and 
his wife, on whom, with his sons and 
daughters, intelligent, bright people, we 
liked to call, and were cordially received. 
They were all good company, and, as 
they had ample means, kept open house. 
One evening while we were pleasantly 
chatting with the young ladies in the back 
parlor, some one said the old gentleman, 



66 Walter Carter. 

with whom I was rather a favorite, wanted 
to have me join him and a fellow elder in 
the front parlor. I went in, and was cor- 
dially welcomed. I sat down and felt 
very much at home, but soon a servant 
brought in a tray with decanters and 
glasses, and I was asked to try the toddy. 
I at once declined as best i could ; it would 
have been so much I ept The 

old gentleman became very angry and 
said 1 was no Scotchman to refuse the 
national drink. It v. re tc it, but 

I was learning the Lesson how to say No, 
and it did me good. I have never been 
so severely tried since, and now it i 
y No, and stand to it. 
A little text has hail a good deal to do 
in shaping my life and saving me from 
trouble: "Abstain from all appearance of 
evil." I have found by experience that 
it is helpful especially for a young man 
"to learn to say No," and to say No 
mo t decidedly. It is well that all around 
us should know just where we stand and 



Autobiography. 67 

under which king we serve. Indeed, in 
a wider sense, it is important that we state 
our convictions promptly. I have done, 
I suppose, more jury duty than any of my 
neighbors, and I found it told on a jury if 
I told the eleven, as soon as we were 
locked up, where I stood, and that I was 
prepared to stand by it. In one instance, 
I found while the case was perfectly clear 
to me, only one other took my view. 
One, a German, said he would not yield 
to my view if he was locked up six weeks. 
After an hour or two of argument, two 
more joined me, and there we stuck. As 
the night drew on I folded my greatcoat 
and put it on the bench for a pillow, ask- 
ing that, as we could not agree, I might 
be allowed to sleep. I lay down, and, I 
suppose, would have soon been asleep. 
A few were whispering in a corner, and 
had in some way got a notion who I was 
and that I would never yield. They came 
to me to wake me up and take a new 
canvass. This time it was seven with me 



68 Walter Carter. 

and five against. One of the five said to 
me that his wife was jealous of him and 
his absence would be misinterpreted. He 
must get out; which side would conquer ? 
I told him most assuredly mine; th 
must prevail. Another canvass, and 
were for me; and soon after another, and 
eleven stood for me. The German yielded 
between nine and ten, and we all got 
home. It taught me a lesson, and 
that time I always announced my opinion 
and gave my reasons. 
One Sabbath aften 
day, we t friend were 

leaving Sui 1- an<1 - - ls our church 

was close': wire returning 

home, when we saw on a door of an 
up-stairs hall in Canal Street the announce- 
ment: '-Good preaching here." We 
went up-stairs, and found a rough-] 
man with his coat off, haranguing a hard- 
looking crowd, and we soon found he was 
a Mormon elder looking for recruit-. We 
soon took his measure and left, as we had 



A utobiography. 69 

been too well instructed in the Scriptures 
to be caught by such chaff. 

This incident reminds me of the Millerite 
delusion of ten years before. Mr. Miller, 
a Baptist exhorter, had been studying the 
prophecies, and had ciphered out the end 
of the world in August, 1839. He was 
pushing his scheme at Galway Corners in 
the Baptist Church, and there was a good 
deal of excitement. Peter and I asked 
father if we could go and hear Miller. 
He said : ' ' You may, if you will tell me 
what he says, so that I can correct what 
is false. ' ' We heard the lecture, but the 
man was so ignorant and so worldly that 
we were not taken with him. Father 
bought Miller's book and read it, compar- 
ing it with the Bible ; and he soon showed 
us how silly and weak the expositor was, 
and how important it was to study the 
Bible for ourselves; and then we should 
not be ' ' carried away by even- wind of 
doctrine of those who lie in wait to 
deceive." But some of our neighbors 



yo Walter Carter. 

were carried away by the delusion. A 
farmer came in one day, and, in talking 
over the prediction of the end of the world, 
said: " It must be true, for it is written on 
the barley-leaf. 

My father turned to us and said : 
"Boys, bring in half a dozen stalks of 
barley. " When we examined them, sure 
enough there v. n the first leaf. 

We were startled; but my father 
" Wait; we must nol 

mony of one leaf. Let ua see what the 
others say. " 

k up another, and that l< 
like a different f ther, — but 

agreed with the first, and the nei 
went home, rather mortifii 

Another neighbor, who • 
man, was well convinced of the approach 

of the vm\ of the world. Some on- 
to him: "If the world is coming to an end 

this summer, you will not need that 
pile of wood. Why not send it to 
tain poor widow ? ' ' The man was much 



A uto biography. y i 

embarrassed, but thought of a text to up- 
hold his position, — " Occupy till I come. ' ' 

Brother James and I being nearest in 
age were very dear to each other, and his 
long illness was a sore trial during the first 
year of my New York life. Three of our 
best New York physicians attended him, 
and some months on the farm raised him 
up in strength so much that we had strong 
hopes of his recovery. As winter ap- 
proached he came back to New York, and 
in December and January, 1845, the- old 
symptoms returned. An old friend urged 
us to try a homoeopathic doctor, but we 
laughed at the little pills and passed him. 
In February he grew much worse, and at 
a consultation of his doctors it was an- 
nounced that the end was near, and would 
probably come within twenty-four hours. 
Medicine had ceased to help him, and his 
diet was reduced to gruel ; even milk was 
forbidden. 

I sat up with him on what was supposed 
to be his last nigrht. He suffered from 



72 Walter Carter. 

gnawing- hunger, and plead for a bit of 
steak or a glass of milk ; both were denied 
by directions of the doctor, who said that 
hemorrhage and instant death would re- 
sult. I was sorely tried ; it seemed s<> hard 
with plenty all around us to deny him 
food. At last 1 1 the calling of 

a homceopathist, as h< id, would 

allow food. 1 asked him if I should call 
in 1 )i. Wright, and hi "Do." 

It v.. twn, and I went into the 

hall for my hat and overcoat. Aunt Jane 

that he was, and I for 1 >r. 

Wright. She said: " He will kill him. " 

him up, an I h the 

day. so we will try the other. " I called 
in Dr. Wright lie ordered milk and 
ak and anythin anted. He 

lived in comfort for six weeks and had no 
more hemorrhage. So Dr. Y. 
our doctor till he died, and we are still 



A utobiography. 7 3 

What a change that year made in our 
family — father and brothers Thomas and 
James all in one year ! How lonely and 
desolate it did seem ! Mother was sorely 
tried, and at last sent for me, to see if I 
would not come back to the farm and 
comfort her old age. I went up and spent 
two weeks with her. Everything in New 
York seemed bright and inviting, while 
the farm seemed less desirable than when 
I left. John, Margaret, and Isabella were 
there, and after a long talk, when the day 
for my return came, mother said: "Well, 
if you will stay just one day longer, I will 
let you go with my blessing. ' ' I stayed 
till the next day, and as I came down the 
Hudson, near Coxsackie I saw the steam- 
boat Swallow, on which I had expected 
to come down the night before, with her 
bows on a rock and all the berths beneath 
the water. I saw if I had not obeyed and 
honored my mother, I should have been 
with the crowd that perished in the deep 
water that had drowned so many. 



REMINISCENCE. 



IV. 

LONGFELLOW, referring to Haw- 
thorne's unfinished romance, " Sep- 
timius Felton," once wrote: 

" Oh, who shall lift that wand of magic power, 
And the lost clue regain ? 
The unfinished window in Aladdin's tower 
Unfinished must remain." 

As the writer of the preceding - pages 
parted from his son at the beginning of 
January, 1897, speaking with reference to 
his autobiography, he said : ' ' Yes, I will 
go to work upon it now ; but it can never 
interest anybody but my children. ' ' Three 
weeks thereafter the busy hand laid down 
the pen forever. 

The autobiography closes the story of 

bachelorhood. Would that the graphic 

pen had but left in its bold, free strokes the 

story of courtship and marriage. In the 

77 



7% Walter Carter. 

pages granted us is the first meeting with 
the young woman who afterward became 
his wife. The young people frequently 
met at the home of the elder brother and 
in the home of Mr. Samuel Thomson, who 
indulged in what was at that time the 
somewhat unusual luxury of a summer 
establishment in addition to a city house. 
On the eminence rising from the railway- 
depot at In wood, the northernmost station 
on Manhattan Island, Mr. Thomson had 
built a home in the ample and cla | 

colonial style, and the woody heights 
about it lent a picturesque .setting. .Mr. 
Thomson was a man of remarkabli 
science, and his judgment concerning the 
future of the city, then in its earliest 
development, far outran the expectations 
of the most sanguine of those years. On 
one occasion, after spending a night at 
Mount Washington, as the heights above 
Inwood were called, Mr. Carter was in- 
vited to drive over Breakneck Hill and 
down to Harlem on the way to the city, 



Reminiscence. 79 

as Mr. Thomson wished to visit some 
property which he had purchased in that 
portion of the island. As they came down 
from the western hills, Mr. Thomson 
pointed out the low-lying Harlem, the 
Bronx Kills, and the more distant Sound, 
and expressed his conviction that the 
region which extended before them would 
become a great entrepot for shipping, and 
that the merchant fleets of the nations 
would congregate in that vicinity, to the 
vast appreciation of real estate. The cor- 
rectness of his judgment receives demon- 
stration in the recent developments in 
shipping interests in that vicinity. 

On the occasion of one visit to the home 
at Inwood, then called Tubbyhook, Mr. 
Carter took a stage which ran to Kings- 
bridge over the old Bloomingdale road, 
the lower part of which is now known as 
Broadway and the Boulevard. An elec- 
tion had been held in the city that day, 
which was of more than local interest, and 
on the vehicle were militiamen who were 



8o Walter Carter. 

returning from special duty, as a riot had 
been feared. The stage rumbled on for 
three or four miles along the counti 
bounded by fields, until they read 
old tavern near wrhal -ninth 

Street, wh< ., r thc 

to 1] " from the 

■ and the 

farmers mounted the: 
home with: 

north of thc 

When Ml 

rthern Ui 

had made New \ 
day. the specially cler. 

inent 

other where he had been hiding himself 



Reminiscence. 8 1 

that he had not made his appearance in 
that place on Monday for so long- a time. 
The other replied : "I found that I was 
breaking down in the roar and bustle of 
this great city. I have moved out of the 
smoke and dust into a quiet place in the 
country where I can study and write with- 
out interruption. It is possible to sleep 
out there away from the noise. Come out 
into my neighborhood and take a new 
lease of life. " 

' ' Where is this Arcadia of yours ? ' ' 
"It is called Minetta Lane. We see 
nothing but green fields, with here and 
there a farmhouse." The curious will 
find Minetta Lane at the foot of Sixth 
Avenue as it turns into Carmine Street 
below the curve in the elevated road. It 
is notorious for its nightly brawls and its 
degraded negro population. 

At the home at Mount Washington and 
in the homes of her father and her sister 
in town, Mr. Carter had many opportuni- 
ties of seeing the slender, delicate, refined 



82 Walter Carter. 

woman who exerted so powerful an influ- 
ence upon his life. He was fond of telling 
in his own irresistible fashion — a mixture 
of tenderness and jocularity — that his 
father had advised him, when marrying, 
to find a woman with a good head, — add- 
ing " And so I did. " 

A few days after the last page of his 
autobiography was written, during the last 
earthly conversation in which he took a 
part, as he commented upon the brief 
autobiography of a former acquaintance, 
the question was asked : 

"Why don't you write your recollec- 
tions, Mr. Carter ? You have met so 
many well-known men, and had so many 
interesting experiences; you could write a 
biography far more interesting than this." 

"We have been coaxing him to do 
so," said one of his daughters, "but he 
has written only a little beyond his 
twenty-first birthday. ' ' 

"That is a very important birthday," 
was remarked. 



Rem in isce?ice . 8 3 

"Yes, but not the most important in 
your life," replied the daughter, turning 
to her father. 

' ' Xo, the twenty-sixth, ' ' was the quick 
response. 

' ' Was that the time you were mar- 
ried ? " asked a listener. 

"Yes," spoke Mr. Carter, in his usual 
lively and heart}'- way, ' « that was the time 
I got the best woman in the world. I 
don't believe my mother would grudge 
my saying that. They were both good 
women. " 

A lady, sitting near, turned to him, 
smiling. "That man is thrice blessed, 
Mr. Carter, who has a good mother, a 
good wife, and a good daughter. ' ' 

" I have two good daughters," said the 
dear old man ; ' ' and a good son, better 
yet. No, not better," he added quickly, 
fearing that the expression might be mis- 
interpreted; " they're all good. I make 
no distinctions between my children." 

Eliza Ann Thomson was. as has been 



84 Walter Carter. 

indicated, a younger sister of Mrs. Robert 
Carter, and even in his father's home in 
Saratoga County, Mr. Carter had heard 
much of her from members of the family 
who had met her. "When I used to 
hear them talking about her, ' ' once said 
he, "I used to think that, when I had 
grown up and made my way in the world, 
I would marry some one like her, and I 
wondered whether she would have me." 

Even in her girlhood her intellectual 
ability was generally recognized. Her 
brothers delighted in drawing her into 
argument, and often when defeated they 
would teaze her by saying: " Annie, you 
ought to be a lawyer." Her coura 
extraordinary for one so delicate. ( h\ 
more than one occasion she faced thieves 
who had entered the house, displaying a 
coolness and readiness, most disconcerting 
to the intruders. Her brother Charles had 
a horse which no one but himself would 
drive. On one occasion he came into the 
city home and said: "Annie, I'm going 



Reminiscence. 85 

out to Tubbyhook; would you like to 
go?" She assented, and mounted into 
the buggy drawn by a horse behind which 
no woman had ever dared to sit. The 
hostler gladly released the restless animal ; 
he sprang forward up the street, straining 
at the bit; and turned up the avenue, the 
traces hanging festooned from the shafts. 
On and on he sped, up hill and down for 
thirteen miles of hot roadway, the traces 
never straightening in all that distance, 
drawing by the bit every step of the way 
in his furious speed; but the plucky girl 
never showed the least symptom of alarm, 
enjoying the drive as much as her intrepid 
brother. 

In early childhood her general health 
and especially her eyesight were impaired 
by an attack of scarlet fever, so that her 
studies were frequently interrupted, and 
her school life painful. Nevertheless, so 
keen was her appetite for information and 
so retentive her memory that her knowl- 
edge became far more extensive and defi- 



86 Walter Carter. 

nite than that of most of the women of her 
generation. I Ier mind was to a mar\ 
degree stored with poetry, and many a 
time a sick child was lulled to rest by her 
soft, rhythmic voice, reciting one piece 
after another for an hour or more until 
sleep relieved child and mother. Nor was 

this gift useful merely to her own; many 
a child of strangers was carried safely 
through some nervous or wilful fit b] 
Lively recital of some fascinating story ifl 

rhyme. 

The wide range of her information as 
t ] lc y, h< r valuable to 

many of even- class in the community. 
With marriage, the mental development of 
many women terminates; in her 
marriage meant greater expansion. It 
Mr. Carter's delight to read aloud to 
her and to his children, often for hours at 
a time, a practice begun in early childhood 
.ding t<» his father. Thus his wife 
was enabled to keep abreast of the thought 
and discovery of the day, while her wifely 



Reminiscence. 87 

and motherly tasks were undiminished. 
As her children grew up, she encouraged 
them to read to her the books they were 
studying. When her son passed through 
college, he translated to her the larger 
part of the Latin and Greek authors which 
he studied. One summer, at various hours 
of the day, the several members of her 
family read to her from six different books, 
which she assimilated without confusion. 
Not infrequently it was discovered that her 
recollection of the book thus read was 
more accurate than that of the reader. 

Despite her defective sight, she did 
much sewing for her children and house- 
hold. Her daughters still treasure speci- 
mens of the tiny, even stitches. In a time 
of ' ' financial stringency, ' ' she developed 
a remarkable talent for "cutting and 
fitting," and great invention in turning 
dresses "upside down and inside out." 
She was economical without stinginess, 
buying always what was both good and 
beautiful, but only when she could afford 



88 Walter Carter. 

the cost, and when the article was suitable 
to the quiet, comfortable style of the family 
living. 

They were married on the 23d day of 
May, 1849, and began housekeeping at 
5 1 Vestry Street, then a pleasant residence 
portion of the city. Referring to the day 
when the young wife left her father's 
house, Mr. Carter once wrote: " My 
mother in catechising her eleven children 
used to remark that the fourth and fifth 
commandments were the hinges on which 
the stone tables of the law turned: the 
fourth, the last concerning our duty to 
God; the fifth, the first concerning our 
duty to man ; and if these two were well 
kept, all the rest would follow. When I 
left his [Mr. Thomson's] house after mar- 
riage to his daughter, Eliza Ann, he led 
her down the steps of the old mansion and 
put her into the carriage to go to the city, 
and in our own house start a new family. 
With tears in his eyes, he could only say, 
1 Annie, remember the Sabbath day to 



Reminiscence. 89 

keep it holy. ' I thought it a little strange 
then, but every year I live I think it more 
wise, more faithful. " That fatherly vale- 
dictory received full reverence in the new 
home throughout the years of wedded 
life. The day was a holy one, kept from 
all defilement and frivolity, a day of rest 
and joy, filled with pleasurable employ- 
ment to the upbuilding of a robust Chris- 
tianity. The day was never profaned by 
travel, and a Sunday newspaper found no 
welcome in that home. The church ser- 
vices and the Sabbath-schools occupied a 
large part of the day, and the evening was 
devoted to a family service in which the 
catechism had its part, religious poetry 
and portions of Scripture were recited, 
hymns were sung, and the whole family 
brought close together in the concluding 
prayer. 

Mention has been made in the preceding 
biography of the neighborhood prayer- 
meetings and the tract-distributing which 
interested Mr. Carter at this time ; and an 



9<d Walter Carter. 

incident was given illustrative of his diffi- 
dence in the presence of strangers or of a 
large gathering. Frequently in referring 
to this time he said that he made his visit- 
ation by mere force of will, and that in 
calling from door to door he found the 
stately homes of wealth more appalling 

than the dark hallways of the t< neiueut- 

houi es. i id : 

"On on :. when I kn< 

at a door on an up] 

able I ice within 

an invitation to be 

rather than to enter. I 
more loudly ; and the do. » 

by a burly fellow, who demanded what I 
wanted, and threatened to kick med 

stairs unless 1 cleared out. I was a young 
man then, and rather stout and sti 
and I thought it which 

of us would do the kicking. I lool 
him, and smiled a little, and Ik 
be struck with the same idea, and quieted 
down, and asked again what was my 



Reminiscence. 91 

business. I stated what I was doing, and 
he asked, ' What are you paid for this ? ' 
' If you mean in dollars and cents, ' I re- 
plied, ' no one pays me. I don't receive 
a cent for this. I expect my pay from 
my Master in heaven. ' Then he became 
more civil, and listened to what I had to 
say, and accepted a tract from me. ' ' 

On one occasion, his district-visiting led 
him to a room where a woman was lean- 
ing over a wash-tub, while five children 
played on the floor. He asked her 
whether she attended church. She replied 
in the negative, and pointed to the 
children. 

" There's my reason. I've never been 
to church since my first baby was born, 
and I had to stay at home with it. ' ' 

' ' Does your husband go to church ? ' ' 

"Yes; sometimes." 

"Well, I'll tell you what my wife and 
I do ; I go to church in the morning, and 
she stays with the baby. Then, in the 
afternoon, I take care of the baby, while 



9- Walter Carter. 

she goes to church. Talk to your husband 
about this, and sec whether he won't 
arrange it. These are his children as well 
as yours, and you want them to be the 
Lord's children. How can you bring 
them up rightly, if you never go to 
church ? " 

Years afterward, a nicely dn 
pleasant-faced woman stopped him, as he 
was leaving the prayer-meeting of a n< igh- 
boring church. 

"You don't remember me, Mr. Car- 
ter?"— and she recalled the incident. 
"My husband took turns with me a 
suggested, and we took the children to 
church and to Sunday-school; and i 
thing has prospered with us since then. 
We attend this church now, ami here arc- 
all our five children with us to-night." 

rs thereafter, a very happy, smiling 
young mother came one evening to church, 
and said to one of his daughter-: " Your 
father told me that story about the poor 
woman and her husband, who took turns 



Reminiscence. 93 

in taking care of the baby. We had never 
thought of it, but Mr. W — is home with 
the baby to-night. ' ' 

In 1852 began a new chapter in the life 
of the young couple, who made their first 
venture in real estate. So entirely were 
they one in purpose and execution that it 
is proper to speak of this as a joint experi- 
ence. Mr. Carter purchased a house in 
Twenty-first Street, between Seventh and 
Eighth Avenues, then in the village of 
Chelsea, separated by a long series of 
vacant lots from the closely built city. 
They were soon surrounded by relatives 
who followed their example in escaping 
from the regions becoming less desirable 
as places of residence, nine households in 
all residing within easy walking distance. 

At first, however, it was lonely, and the 
friends far down-town. The Scotch Church 
was located in Grand Street, where it 
occupied a white marble edifice of Ionic 
architecture. The distance was too great 
to be undertaken more than once a day; 



94 Walter Carter. 

but the religious nature of Mr. Cuter 
could not be contented with one church 
service on Sunday. A Reformed Church 
st<»»d on Twentieth Si ht hundred 

feet distant, and it was not long before he 
found his way within, and was enlisted as 
a Sunday-school teacher. rience 

gained in teaching the class of his brother 
James was now applied in instructing a 
The manly and genial 
character at once commanded their ad- 
miration. Often in after years he 
with affection of tli.it class in the 
stone church, though his modesty hindered 

a correct estimate of what had 

accomplished. As with tin former i 

holars in manhood demonstrated the 

value of that contact with manly intelli- 
gence and sympathetic chcerincss. 

In the new home a little family 
up. In 1853 the Scotch Church moved 
to Fourteenth Street near Sixth Avenue, 
and as the years passed the children were 
taken to church and to Sunday-school. 



Reminiscence. 95 

The home was happy in wise Christian 
culture. There were no flabby, sentimen- 
tal theories of moral suasion. Punishment 
was infrequent, but inflexibly administered 
when deemed necessary. There was no 
nagging, no teasing, no sneering, no 
begging on the part of the parents. Duty 
was a high word in that house ; right was 
the test of all things ; obedience was ex- 
pected and obtained, because no unreason- 
able demands were made. The parents 
were more exacting critics of themselves 
than the children could be of their parents. 
It was the father's delight in the sum- 
mer evenings or on the Saturday after- 
noons to take his children to the Hudson, 
to enjoy the salt breezes from the as yet 
unpolluted river, playing on the lumber at 
the wharves. Trips on the river-boats to 
Fort Lee and to Staten Island were 
especially prized; and in all the outings 
he brought the resources of a well-stored 
mind to the entertainment and instruction 
of the little ones. As the years wore on, 



q6 Waller Carter. 

the travel was extended; the summers 
were marked not only by sojourns in the 
country, but by visits to various places of 
interest. Albany, Pittsfield, Springfield, 
Boston, Trenton Falls, Rochester, (Jtica, 
Newport, £ »rge, Lake 

Champlain, Montreal, Philadelphia, Balti- 
more, Washington, the Catskill 

and many other places, contributed to the 

education of the young people, a pr< 

sive series including a family trip to 

Europe. 

Tu i< househ< »id shadowed 

ath. Little Willie, the third child, 

timid bo; . lov- 

and conscientious. His plays were 
quiet, and he was careful of his I 
of his greatest pleasures was lying on the 
floor with a quarto copy of "The Pilgrim's 
Progress" spread out before him. Mr. 
Carter had published an illuminated edition 
of Bunyan's allegory, and brought home 
a copy as a present to his eldest daughter. 
The little fellow, though only three years 



Reminiscence. 97 

old, never tore or stained a page. He 
would bring it to his parents with the 
inquiry: "What is the story of this pic- 
ture ? " When the request was met, he 
would return to his place and pore over 
the bright pages for hours. 

The father's heart was greatly drawn 
out to the shy, frail, affectionate little 
fellow. He was proud of his two boys as 
they ran before him hand in hand, their 
curls dancing about their happy faces. 
He was fond of all his children ; but Willie 
was not strong, and his father thought 
anxiously about him. The cold weather 
came on. He was prostrated by typhoid 
fever. The physician looked grave. A 
day came when the father remained at his 
boy's bedside. To his mother who was 
near him he said : ' ' Ma, I saw Grandpa. ' ' 
"Oh, no, Willie," was the reply, "you 
could not have seen Grandpa; Grandpa is 
dead. " " Yes, Ma, I saw Grandpa, and 
he said, 'Don't be afraid, little boy.' " 
Somewhat later, he looked up and said: 



98 Walter Carter. 

" I am like Christiana's son in the valley 
of the shadow of death." It came up to 
him in that hour when young and old must 
step out alone, the figure of the boy grop- 
ing forward in advance of his mother in 
the gloom of the dark valley. Only three 
years and a half, but he knew the way 
through the valley and into the sunlight 
beyond. 

The first break in the family circle was 
a severe one to the loving father. In 
Scotland at a father's death the eldest son 
bears the head of the coffin and the second 
son the foot. When Willie ceased to 
breathe, his father bowed at his bedside, 
and with the thought of the Scotch custom 
in his mind, said with quivering voice: 
' ■ I thought to have two sons to lay me in 
the grave." That was all. He rose in 
the strength of faith, and resumed to the 
full his life of service, assured that the will 
of his heavenly Father was naught but 
love. 

A little over a year after Willie's de- 



Reminiscence. 99 

parture lovely golden-haired Mamie came 
to bless the home ; but after sixteen months 
of patient suffering, she too closed her blue 
eyes upon- this earth's sunshine and 
shadow, leaving behind memories that 
shall not die. 



LofC. 



V. 



THE outbreak of the Civil War involved 
considerable loss to the business of 
the firm, inasmuch as some of their best 
customers were retailers in the South. 
Not only were future sales cut off by the 
war, but moreover a large proportion of 
the accounts, which were after the custom 
of that day on long time, never were paid. 
Nevertheless Mr. Carter stood firmly to 
the stalwart anti-slavery principles of his 
father ; and not only supported the govern- 
ment by speech and influence, but even 
went to the recruiting headquarters to 
consult with an acquaintance in charge. 
His friend told him that it would take two 
months to give him sufficient drill to send 
him to the front, whereas they had an 
able-bodied German, fresh from the mili- 
tary training of Prussia, who could be sent 

IOO 



Reminiscence. i o I 

to the front within a week. His friend 
said to him : ' ' We need such men as you 
are at home to speak and act for the 
government, and you are worth more to 
us here than you could be in the field." 
At once Mr. Carter made arrangements 
that three substitutes should be sent, one 
for each of the three brothers. This was 
prior to any talk of a draft, and was there- 
fore equivalent to a personal enlistment in 
response to the call of President Lincoln. 
At the opening of the war Mr. Robert 
Carter took his family to Europe on the 
graduation of two of his sons from Prince- 
ton Seminary; and, in pursuance of a 
long-cherished plan, they spent more than 
a year abroad. The business was con- 
ducted vigorously during his absence, by 
Mr. Carter and his brother Peter, and from 
that time Mr. Robert Carter was absent 
continuously during the warm season from 
three to five months, while for the months 
of July and August the two younger 
brothers alternated in taking charge of the 



102 Waller Carter. 

business, each having one week in New 
York and one week in the country. 

On Monday, July 13, 1863, Mr. Carter 
left his family on a farm near Sharon, 
Connecticut, where they were spending 
the summer, and set out for a week in the 
city. As the train reached Forty-second 
Street, where the locomotive ran into the 
roundhouse, and four-horse teams were 
attached to the cars to draw them through 
the tunnel to the terminal station at 
Twenty-sixth Street, the train was sur- 
rounded by a raging mob of men and 
women. The rioters attacked the car, 
pounding on the sides with clubs, and 
hindering the driver from coupling the 
pole. As they waited and the tumult 
continued, some one without struck at the 
car just where Mr. Carter was sitting. 
The butt-end of the club entered the win- 
dow only a little before his face, and was 
withdrawn for another blow. Meanwhile 
the driver, who was of the same nationality 
as the rioters, coaxed the crowd, saying: 



Reminiscence. 103 

"Now, byes, be aisy. Ye'll be afther 
making me lose me job. Be aisy, will 
yees ? ' ' and after persuading them to 
release the horses, he laid on his whip 
with a will, and the splendid team bent 
to their work after a fashion that sent the 
car into the tunnel as never car had 
entered before that day. 

The passengers, terrified beyond meas- 
ure by this assault, quieted somewhat as 
they passed through the tunnel ; but Mr. 
Carter, glancing down Thirtieth Street 
toward the East River, saw another mob 
running in the direction of the car. He 
remembered that on entering the station 
the car would run to the further end from 
which there was no exit, and he estimated 
that by the time the passengers had walked 
through the station to Fourth Avenue, the 
mob would be upon them. He had with 
him, besides his own property, a valuable 
watch which a friend had requested him 
to leave at Tiffany's. It would never do 
for him to attempt passing through a mob. 



104 Walter Carter. 

He grasped his traveling-bags, stepped to 
the rear platform, poised himself a moment 
on the lower step to get the motion of the 
car, leaped to the ground at Twenty-eighth 
Street, and ran to Madison Avenue. An 
omnibus was passing, into which he 
climbed, and there from the solitary occu- 
pant he learned that the Irish population 
had broken out in opposition to the draft, 
and that the city was at their mercy. 

Alighting from the omnibus at Spring 
Street, he found the clerks in great excite- 
ment over the news, and business at a 
standstill. Rumors of atrocities increased 
all day; houses were burning, stores were 
pillaged, human life reckoned as nothing. 
General Wool established his headquarters 
at the St. Nicholas, diagonally across 
Broadway from the store. A cannon was 
placed at the intersection of the streets 
above and below; and quiet settled upon 
that region. At one time a disorderly 
rabble was seen coming down Broadway 
toward Spring Street. Immediately orders 



Reminiscence. 105 

were given, the gunners sprang to posi- 
tion, a charge of grape was rammed home, 
and all was in readiness ; but the mob took 
no comfort from the appearance of the 
black muzzle ; they were out for plunder, 
not for hot shot, and the dark mass melted 
away before the ominous silence of the 
erect figures at the gun. 

But elsewhere in the city the mob had 
its own way, and the people shrank from 
appearing on the deserted streets. As 
evening drew on, Mr. Carter went to the 
home in Twenty-first Street, and found the 
Irish cook in quiet possession, ignorant of 
the disturbance. After supper he set out 
to learn how matters were going in the 
homes of the relatives in the vicinity. 
Calling on his brother-in-law, Mr. John 
Thomson, he found the family in great 
excitement. The rioters had been in that 
street, and had taken a colored waiter 
from the house two doors from theirs, and 
hanged him to the lamp-post before their 
door. Mr. Carter joined Mr. Thomson 



106 Walter Carter. 

in endeavoring to allay the fears of the 
ladies, who had been witnesses of the 
atrocity, and were almost beside them- 
selves with alarm. So he went from one 
to another, cheering with his brave, hope- 
ful spirit all whom he met. 

All night the fire-bells sounded their 
startling alarm, and the sky was red with 
the unsubdued fires, for the young men of 
the volunteer fire department were every- 
where attacked and driven away by the 
mob. The morning broke hotly upon a 
city cowed by lawlessness. Mr. Carter 
went to the headquarters of the home 
guard which was hastily recruited for the 
protection of the city ; but found that the 
roster was full, and the only method of 
assistance would be by joining the muni- 
cipal police force. He therefore occupied 
himself in seeking the alarmed and lonely, 
and cheering them as they abode in appre- 
hension. 

One of these visits was made to Mary 
Titus, a colored woman, who had often 



Rem in iscence. 107 

assisted in house-cleaning and in various 
other services. She lived in Christie 
Street, a negro quarter, east of the Bowery. 
The region was like a sleeping city when 
he entered it, walking on the edge of the 
sidewalk to be safer from any sudden 
assault from a doorway. By his usual 
ready adroitness, gaining admission to the 
closed tenement in which she lived, he 
found the terrified inmates crowded into 
the back yard, which they had occupied for 
two days and nights without food. The 
good woman was overjoyed to see him, 
and begged him to pray with them there, 
saying : ' ' Oh, Mr. Carter, the Lord will 
hear you. ' ' Many touching incidents have 
been published in connection with the 
story of the war ; but none can surpass the 
beauty of that scene when the man, who 
had risked his life to give comfort to a poor 
woman, standing in the midst of that 
group of dark-skinned men and women, 



io8 Walter Carter. 

Jehovah to protect and save His persecuted 
people. 

He told them that General Wool was in 
town, that the citizens had risen in defense 
of the city, and that the militia were driv- 
ing back the mob; that the worst was 
over, and soon the streets would be quiet 
and safe. So he stilled their terror, and 
left them smiling with hope. 

Meanwhile, out in the country his wife 
waited with her children, praying in tor- 
turing suspense. Word had come of the 
outbreak of riot; but the mails were in- 
terrupted, and it was not until several 
days had passed that Mr. Carter got word 
to her by way of Albany that the lawless 
were under control, and nothing further 
was to be feared. Those days of strain 
were passed in a marvelous dignity of faith 
and self-control. Mrs. Carter said little 
in response to the wild rumors which ran 
riot over the land. That the strong, firm 
patriot walked the streets in safety in those 
days of peril was doubtless in no small 



Reminiscence. 109 

part in response to the prayer of faith 
which went up hourly from the brave wife 
in her loneliness. 

Mr. Carter inherited his father's mus- 
cular strength and physical endurance. 
In character he was a happy combination 
of the Celt and the Saxon; the impulsive, 
enthusiastic and generous Celt was blended 
with the prudent, thrifty, persevering, 
sunny Saxon. He was known as a good- 
natured man, but granite-firm in his stand 
for principle. He came of a stock whose 
religion pervaded their lives. The entire 
week was sacred to the divine service, 
each day bound about by prayer, each 
moment instinct with the consciousness of 
the divine Presence. There was a joyous 
and restful sense of watchful love ever 
present to bless and guide. It filled the 
hours of labor and leisure, consecrated the 
business transactions, and determined the 
character of the recreations. 

This life of joyous Christian service 



no 'Walter Carter. 

found its culmination in the various activi- 
ties connected with the church. When- 
ever its doors were opened, it was his 
pleasure to be present. As he was, during 
the larger part of his life, a man of robust 
health, rarely indeed was it the case that 
his seat was vacant at the time < >f religious 
service. When the summer called the 

family into the country, every Sunda; 
them in the neighboring church, and Mr. 
Carter delighted in remaining to take part 
in the Sunday-school, when- he ordinarily 
was invited to con. dult Bible 

In the summer of [864, which was 
spent at 1 lighgate Spriri ted by 

guests in th.e hotel, he gathered the 
children of the community and conducted 
a Sunday-school. The following year be 
revived the work, and thereafter had the 
pleasure -of hearing that it was continued 
Lutumn called him to the city. In 
the summers of 1 So- and 1 868 he 
conducted a Sunday-evening teachers' 



Reminiscence. 1 1 1 

meeting in Warren, Conn., which was 
enthusiastically attended. 

In 1866 the Rev. Morris C. Sutphen 
was called from Philadelphia to assist as 
collegiate pastor the eloquent Dr. Joseph 
McElroy in the Scotch Presbyterian 
Church. One stormy Wednesday evening 
the young minister came somewhat early 
to the lecture-room and found only the 
sexton in the building. 

"Well, Mr. Stuart," said he, "I sup- 
pose you and I shall have the meeting to 
ourselves to-night ? ' ' 

' ' No, sir, ' ' was the reply, ' ' there is 
one man who will be here whatever the 
weather. ' ' 

"And who is that? He's a man I 
want to know." 

" That's Mr. Walter Carter. He always 
comes. " 

The sexton spoke truly of him as it was 
then, and as it was always. Thirty years 
thereafter, when the church-bells began to 
ring, as the white head lay upon the 



1 1 2 Walter Carter. 

pillow, and the last long sleep was Hear- 
ing, he caught the loved sound, and gently 
murmured : ' ' Too bad about the prayer- 
meeting. " 

The young pastor found that Mr. Carter 
was indeed a man he wanted to know, 
and more and more learned to lean upon 
him. In that same year it was thought 
advisable to increase the number of elders 
in the Scotch Church; and Mr. Carter, 
with some others, was ordained April 14, 
1867, to an office which he always 
adorned. On the day of his ordination, 
as the family gathered as usual for morn- 
ing prayer, Mr. Carter spoke earnestly to 
his children concerning their responsibility 
as members of an elder's family, urging 
them to show a good example to the 
people of the church, and by prayer 
and untiring effort so to walk as to adorn 
the doctrine of Christ. 

The usual afternoon service was omitted 
on that day, and the service of ordination 
was held in the evening. All the hours 



Reminiscence. 113 

of that afternoon Mr. Carter spent in 
meditation and prayer. As he sat alone 
before his open Bible, one of the family, 
not knowing his occupation, entered the 
room, and at once silently withdrew, awed 
by the rapt abstraction of his communion 
with his Father. The impression of that 
sacred stillness left a memory vivid and 
indelible to this day. 

The office, accepted as a solemn trust 
and with deep sense of unworthiness, he 
filled as few men have done. "I want 
you to be a Barnabas, a son of consola- 
tion. That is what you are made for," 
were the words of Mr. Sutphen to Mr. 
Carter as he entered the eldership. In 
no direction of his activity was he more 
blessed than in bringing to the anxious 
and burdened and bereaved the consola- 
tion which comes of the touch of a genuine 
and delicate sympathy. 

Perhaps no better illustration of this 
rare power of consolation could be found 
than that mentioned in an address deliv- 



1 14 IV alter Carter. 

ered in the Church of the Covenant, 
Williamsport, Pa., of which his son is 
pastor, by the Rev. Duncan J. McMillan, 
D.D., shortly after Mr. Carter's death. 
Dr. McMillan spoke in part as follows: 

"Mr. Carter was a man of sympathy, 
and when I speak of his sympathy, I speak 
of that which I have experienced sweetly 
in my intercourse with him. 1 had been 
called as a minister to visit homes of 
sorrow and sadness; but there came a 
time when sorrow entered my own home, 
when my own heart was almost crushed, 
when all God's waves and billows seemed 
to be rolling over me. Mr. Carter entered 
my home, and sitting close by me and 
taking my hand in his, with a smile upon 
his face lit up by the very light of Heaven 
said just the things that fitted my case, 
just such as I needed. He seem< 
divine my innermost feeling and yearning. 
I do not know of any other man who could 
have done me so much good. 

"A few days later Mr. Carter walked 



Reminiscence. 115 

into my office down-town, and after 
apologizing : ' I was down-town and 
thought of you, and ran in just a moment 
to say a word. ' Then he sat down by 
me, and said: ' I know just how you feel. 
I lost a little boy once myself, and when 
I got out on the street the world seemed 
changed. Everything was going on just 
as it was before ; but it seemed to me that 
it was cruel for men to be hurrying here 
and there about business, careless and 
thoughtless, just as if my little boy had 
not died. ' I do not know how that may 
impress you — it came to my heart with a 
tenderness inexpressible, and gave me the 
comfort which one feels when another 
enters into his sorrow; and I have felt 
stronger and better ever since." 

In the year 1867, in recognition of the 
needs of the region in which the Scotch 
Church stood, and to enlist the many un- 
employed young people in Christian work, 
there was organized, at the suggestion of 



1 16 Walter Carter. 

the young pastor, a mission-school, known 
as the Immanuel Sunday-school. The 
movement was prosperous from the be- 
ginning. The school grew rapidly until 
the room was filled, and as the years 
passed the wisdom of the conception was 
demonstrated as families were won to the 
church, and the young people interested 
and retained. 

Entering into this work with all hearti- 
ness, Mr. Carter gathered a large Bible 
class of young ladies which he taught for 
ten years, many of the members uniting 
with the church while under his care, and 
many rejoicing in a manifest deepening of 
their spiritual life as a result of their eon- 
tact with his strong, cheerful, consecrated 
character. 

A few years later he was elected super- 
intendent of the mission-school, an office 
which he administered until the close of 
I S76. The quick appreciation and ready 
resource which appeared in his relation 
with men were peculiarly exhibited as 



Reminiscence. 1 1 7 

leader of the young people who taught in 
the mission-school. His teachers re- 
sponded to his leadership with enthusiasm, 
and the building was employed to its full 
capacity when he relinquished his office. 
Some of the features of the so-called in- 
stitutional church were employed during 
his superintendency, at a time when such 
methods were almost unknown. The 
indifferent were attracted, and the mission- 
school became an effective feeder to the 
church. 



VI. 

IN the spring of 1870, Mr. Carter took 
his family to Europe, visiting Scotland, 
Holland, Germany, Switzerland, France, 
anil England, lie brought to the trip all 
the stores of historical information, laid up 
by years of enthusiastic reading, not a 
little of which had been shared by his 
family as a result of his habit of reading 
aloud with them. As he journeyed from 
city to city, or strolled along the si 
the places were peopled for him with the 
famous of every age; and the journey was 
in a high degree educational to the 
younger members of the family. 

After a delightful trip on the continent, 
Mr. Carter spent some time in London, 
mingling with the friends whom long busi- 
ness correspondence had made for him 
there. On one occasion he walked out to 
116 



Reminiscence. 119 

Hempstead to hear the Rev. Edward 
Henry Bickersteth, afterward Bishop of 
Exeter, whose sacred epic : ' ' Yesterday, 
To-day, and Forever, ' ' had recently been 
published by the firm. After the sermon 
he was cordially received in the poet's 
home. In the course of a very pleasant 
conversation, refreshments were served, 
in the only form recognized in English 
society previous to the total abstinence 
movement which swept over Great Britain 
a few years later. As Mr. Carter declined 
the wines, his host seemed troubled. 

" Perhaps you prefer some other brand, 
Mr. Carter, ' ' said he. 

" No, I thank you," was the reply, " I 
don't know one brand from another, for I 
never drink any of them." 

Mr. Bickersteth expressed great sur- 
prise, saying that he had always under- 
stood that ' ' the lower classes in America 
were teetotal, ' ' but he had not supposed 
that the movement had extended to per- 
sons of refinement. Such was the prev- 



120 Walter Carter. 

alcnt view in the mother country at that 
time, an attitude much modified by the 
educative- movement of later j i 
The members of the family v 
to the parlor, forming a goodly 
Mr. ( '■■■' r .. ked how many tl. 
all. Two of the family had died 

nd referring to them, the 

i 

I iving Lond«.n, Mr. I 
few weeks among th< 
ing t' 

ition. Tl 
linburgh, i 
capita] and its vicinity mai 
friends. 

While on his way to vi it a i 
the r found hi 

the railway-car: 
then 

many. He was SUT] 

their t of the 

French, and that their * in de- 



Reminiscence . 121 

veloped marked bitterness toward Ger- 
many. After listening for some time, he 
said: " Gentlemen, I am surprised to hear 
you speak in this way. For this gentle- 
man, " he continued, turning to a Dane 
who was of the company, "it is natural, 
for Prussia has wronged his country. But 
whose fault was that ? England's ! Eng- 
land should have interposed and hindered 
the appropriation of Schleswig-Holstein." 
He proceeded to show the reasons why, 
in his opinion, England should be the ally 
of Germany, and why he believed the 
defeat of the French Emperor to be prob- 
able, and to be for the good of the world. 
The company listened with respect and 
interest; and presently the conversation 
turned upon other subjects. At length 
one of the gentlemen inquired of Mr. 
Carter: "When does your Commission 
meet, sir ? " In some surprise, Mr. Carter 
asked to what Commission he referred. 
The gentleman replied by the question : 
" Are you not one of Her Majesty's Com- 



122 Walter Carter. 

missioners of Lunacy?" Mr. ( 

accepted it as a rather 34 upon 

himself; but when he mentioned it to his 
cousin. the reply: "Yon 

may accept that as .. 

f the most eminent ; in the 

M 
Commi ' • wtrt 

1 \y « 
nting for the ' 

•nany 

i the 

daily | 

it Mr. < 

t the 

children wl 

which 

.vn in hi- ': 

■ 

me up 

behind and listened to their talk. The 



Rem in isccnce . 123 

photographs of the two great leaders of 
the combatants were on exhibition there; 
and the older boy undertook the instruc- 
tion of the junior in this fashion : 

"Yon muckle mon is the King of 
Proosia ; and yon wee mon is the Emperor 
o' the French. They're fechtin' noo 
(fighting now)." 

"Ay," said the little fellow, "'an 
wha da ye think '11 lick ? " 

The question, Who will conquer ? was 
vexing many an older head ; but the 
Edinburgh street-boy glanced briefly from 
one to the other; and, indicating with his 
finger the Prussian King, remarked with 
the assurance of confidence : " I think that 
the muckle mon '11 lick." 

Among the pleasurable anticipations in 
planning his trip, Mr. Carter looked for- 
ward to the privilege of listening to the 
ablest of Scotland's pulpit orators. Some 
were absent on vacation, but he was so 
fortunate as to hear Drs. Arnot and 
Candlish, and some others of lesser note. 



124 Walter Carter. 

Of all the Edinburgh pastors Dr. Thomas 
Guthrie was the most widely known. As 
the publisher of his writings, Mr. I 
had known him for 

.... 

r, tlun 
retired from the active Work of the minis- 
try. I 

diality, and enjoyed to the full the 
opportunity the men whom 

n. 
A few mornii •' • /;■ r Mr. ( 
with his wife ai 

• 
tful morning .it their ! 
In th< : _ t j, c 

• n.it- 
I I :al< at the 

tive that the German ' 

f the character of I 

that their 

ham, that t] 

ment • 



Reminiscence. 125 

spoke, he rose from the table ; and, walk- 
ing to a beautiful secretary at the side of 
the room, called attention to the grace of 
its design and the high polish of its finish. 
Then he turned the key and exposed the 
interior, which was of a low grade of work- 
manship, fragile, and rough. He declared 
that the secretary which he had brought 
from Paris was a fair specimen of French 
work and French character. 

Somewhat later Mr. Carter remarked 
that among his pleasurable anticipations 
had been the expectation of hearing Dr. 
Guthrie preach ; but he feared that he was 
doomed to disappointment. Dr. Guthrie 
turned to his wife, and said: "Shall I 
tell him?" and then continued, "I've 
promised to preach for my son at the Free 
Church of Liberton next Sunday. Please 
do not speak of it, as we do not wish it to 
be made public. I'll write a line for you 
to show to the beadle, and he will put you 
into the manse pew. ' ' 

On the following Sunday morning, it 



126 Walter Carter. 

became evident to Mr. Carter's family as 
the}- drove toward Liberton that the 
preaching of their !■ Dr. Guthrie 

was an ret to all Edinburj 

all al id were men, women, and 

children <>f all and conditions, 

" walk 
the little suburban town made fara 

the home of Reuben 
r in •• Tin.- I lent <>f Midlothian." 
At the ^ bun h-d< - if the > i .; h wa 
palling i 

fa 

Wli.it 

once. Mi one win. 

near him, if lie knew any <-f the eldi 

14 yon muckle moo s an elder. 1 

I form 
standing mar. Working his 

person tin. pre- 

sented his note. The elder declared his 
willingness to oblige, but expressed a 



Rem in iscence. 127 

doubt of his ability to make his way 
through the surging mass to the pew at 
the other end and other side of the 
building. 

1 ' You are an elder, ' ' said Mr. Carter, 
"and they will allow you to pass. And 
you are a large man. Wherever you can 
go, I and my family can follow you." 
The elder slowly made his way, holding 
Dr. Guthrie's letter before him as his 
voucher to the crowd, and so conducted 
the party through the throng to the manse 
pew, which, by a sort of reverence which 
has not crossed the Atlantic, was left 
vacant, though there was hardly any 
standing-room left in the building. 

When the great preacher arose, no one 
could have suspected that weakness of the 
heart had forced his retirement from active 
service and precluded the much-desired 
visit to America. The tall form, the 
leonine head, the clear resonant voice, the 
earnest manner, and the vivid exposition 
of the truth, — the man and the message 



128 Walter Carter. 

U d the power which had held the 

: 

John's, and th< children of the 

i re all the old fire, the 

old !.. 

illustration, pon the w 

" Which were- horn, not of blood, ■ 

the will .: ..ill f 

man, but i l 

Mr. Carter, wh I the 

the church; and, tm: luthrie 

standing beside the 

:. his 

■ 

When Mr. I 

tO I1H 

in-law 

i in the 
eighteenth century, I icn in his 



Reminiscence. 129 

seventy-fifth year. It was more than two 
years since Livingstone had plunged into 
the unexplored regions of cannibal Africa 
with three faithful attendants. Not yet 
had Stanley organized his expedition in 
search of the intrepid explorer. The 
world had given him up for dead. Very 
naturally one of the first remarks Mr. 
Carter made was in regard to what had 
become of Livingstone. "Oh, " said 
Dr. Moffat, "David's not dead. David 
can take care of himself and will be heard 
of yet. ' ' Possibly he thought of the day 
fifty years before when, heedless of the 
expostulations of his friends, he himself 
had penetrated to the interior and braved 
the terrible chief Africaner, and so was 
given up for dead for more than a year. 
Mr. Carter met Dr. Moffat again a few 
days later at a public breakfast in honor 
of the veteran missionary, where speeches 
were made by some of the greater lights 
of Edinburgh, a most enjoyable occasion. 



130 Walter Carter. 

Shortly after his return to America, 
Mr. Carter moved his home to Forty-ninth 
Street, near Sixth Avenue, and soon there- 
after was elected a trustee of the public 
schools in that ward. Into this work he 
entered with energy, and in a short time 
persuaded his colleagues to adopt certain 
measures which practically put an end to 
all political wire-pulling in the appoint- 
ment of teachers. All teachers entered 
first as substitutes, and were advanced as 
their standing in college and the recom- 
mendation of the principal might indicate. 
The outcome was most advantageous, as 
the teachers soon understood that merit, 
and not influence, was the determining 
factor; and they gave themselves to excel 
in their work, instead of wasting time in 
obtaining political influence. 

In 1874, Mr. Carter, after thirty years 
of business connection with his brothers, 
withdrew his interest in the publishing 
house of Robert Carter & Bros., and 



Reminiscence. 131 

established a business in upper Broadway 
for the sake of his son. The happiest 
relations existed between the brothers 
throughout those years, and the separation 
was effected in pleasant agreement, a close 
business relation being maintained be- 
tween the two houses. 

When the new store was ready to re- 
ceive its stock, Mr. Carter and his son 
began to open the first box of books; 
suddenly Mr. Carter paused and, saying: 
" I don't like to begin without a word of 
prayer, ' ' led the way to a retired place, 
and, bowing his head, besought the divine 
blessing on the opening enterprise. In 
after years he felt that his prayer was fully 
answered, for while in that business his 
son received the call which led him into 
the ministry of the Church. 

Into the new store came many ministers 
and other men of note, and the encounters 
of wit and the discussions of current topics 
rendered the place very much more than 
a mere room for the sale of books. Drs. 



132 Walter Carter. 

Hall, Thompson, Gregg, Taylor, Ormis- 
ton, Ludlow, Wilson, Lampe, and others 
were more or less frequent visitors. Drs. 
William Ormiston and W. M. Taylor 
came in about once a week, and Scotch 
humor and Scotch stories were the order 
of the day. 

On not a few occasions, Dr. Taylor 
came in wearied with the pressure of the 
work, and would sit down, telling of the 
various public calls which had broken his 
week and interfered with his sermonic 
labor. Mr. Carter would sit down by 
him, and in a few minutes the two would 
be in animated conversation on some topic 
of common interest. After this had con- 
tinued for some time, Dr. Taylor would 
suddenly spring to his feet, exclaiming: 
" I have got my sairmon ! That's good. 
I can go right to work now; " and hurry 
out to his study to develop the thought 
suggested by some anecdote or illustration 
which Mr. Carter had given him. 

Two of the illustrations which thus 



Reminiscence. 133 

found their way into sermons preached in 
the Broadway Tabernacle may be here 
given by way of example : 

" One evening, when I was a little boy, 
I was sitting beside an old farmer, on his 
doorstep. Before us was a row of five fine 
large willow trees. 

"Boys are inquisitive creatures, espe- 
cially Scotch boys, and I asked him how 
those trees came to be there. ' Many 
years ago, ' answered he, ' I went down 
to the brook, and cut seven willow withes, 
and brought them up here, and stuck them 
into the ground. Two of them died, — for 
you must always plant more than you 
expect to grow, — and five of them grew 
to be those big trees. ' 

"'But why,' I asked again, 'is the 
middle tree so much taller than the 
others ? ' 

" He led me to the well, lifted me in his 
arms to the top of the curb, and told me 
to look down, and tell him what I saw. 

" I said I saw a long white thing, like 



134 Walter Carter. 

a snake, far down in the water. 'That,' 
said he, 'is a root of that middle tree. 
No matter how dry and hot the summer, 
it can never lack moisture, for it draws 
fresh life constantly from the well. And 
that is the reason it is taller and stronger 
than the other trees. ' 

••Ami so it is with the Christian who 
lives near to God, and draws new life daily 
from the Word of God and from prayer. 
'His leaf shall not wither, and what 
he doeth shall pros] 

"When I was a little fellow, on one 
occasion one of my brothers took me with 
him on the farm-wagon to our market- 
town. The day was hot and the road 
dusty, and I became very thirst}' and 
clamored for a drink of water. My brother 
Stopped the horse before an ancient and 
deserted house, and we went into the yard 
to find the well. 

• ' The house looked weatherbeaten and 
gray; the windows were broken, the 
garden overgrown with weeds and bram- 



Rem iniscence. 135 

bles; but from the side door a narrow, 
straight, well-trodden path led directly to 
the well. Day by day, the tread of many 
feet had so hardened the little, narrow 
path that in all the years of neglect and 
absence, no grass, or weed, or bramble 
could grow there. 

"So should it be with the Christian. 
Whatever else fails, the path of prayer, 
the way between the soul and God, the 
way to the well-spring of the water of life 
should be frequently trodden, so shall it 
be kept free from every entangling growth 
hindering the access of the Christian to 
the Source of blessing. ' ' 

Not only in his intercourse with clergy- 
men, but in all his contact with the widely 
contrasted characters who frequented the 
place, did Mr. Carter show his readiness 
and versatility. Customers were some- 
times crabbed and difficult to please, yet 
they were met by a cheery and prompt 
adaptation to circumstances which was 
irresistible. One instance may stand for 



136 Walter Carter. 

the multitude. A towering hulk of a man 
came in to buy a Christmas present. He 
looked over the rows of presentation 
books, and at length found one that caught 
his eye. He began to look through it, 
but suddenly laid it down with an expres- 
sion of di Lying: "That is a 
Christian book." Without a moment's 
hesitation, Mr. Carter drew out a a 

Mrs, remarking: "Well, then; 
here is a heathen book." The man 
him a surly look; but. meeting nothing of 
scorn or derision in Mr. Carter's face, he 
was pleased with tin- quick readiness, and 
walked off with the book under his arm. 



VII. 

IN 1878 Mr. Carter retired from the book 
business, and gave his time to placing 
investments and settling estates. His long 
observation and experience in New York 
real estate had developed an accurate 
judgment with regard to values, and his 
advice was much solicited by those who 
wished to make secure investments. One 
of the ablest lawyers in New York City 
once said to him : "I would rather have 
your estimate of New York real estate 
than that of any expert I know. ' ' Thus 
he was engaged in an occupation agree- 
able to his tastes and sufficiently active to 
maintain his health and mental vigor. 

More and more Mr. Carter had been 

becoming the favorite companion of his 

daughters and his son. His wide reading 

and extensive acquaintance with men and 

i37 



138 Walter Carter. 

things, which rendered him so ace 
among men and women, were as freely at 
the disposal of his wife and children. The 
family life was one of rare enjoyment 

had a hi f the duty 

of shai 

: and man; \ , re the 

Kith friends 
old and new, .md man] man 

made his ;„ t ] lc 

Dr. Johi 
out in1 • 

of the 

When Mr. < 

i. my 
son, in the new life, tantly 

homeward I- was the t< 
nc showed ( \ f cu . 

r, while the family were 
spendi lean, where In's 

church in I | 



Keminiscence. 139 

his youngest daughter was seriously ill. 
One day while the rest of the family were 
at dinner, Mr. Carter sat with his daughter, 
Jessie, who was suffering intensely. At 
length she said: "Read something, 
father. ' ' Without loosing his clasp of her 
hand, he began to say with a voice which 
vibrated with tenderest sympathy : 

" Such pity as a father hath 
Unto his children dear; 
Like pity shows the Lord to such 
As worship Him in fear." 

Afterward in telling her mother of the 
incident, his daughter said : "I never 
conceived how much that sentence meant 
until that moment, when I saw how much 
father was suffering because I was 
pained. " 

In June, 1885, the eldest daughter, 
Anna, was married to the Rev. Harry H. 
Henry, now at Birmingham, Pa. As the 
young people were leaving the house, 
after the wedding festivities, Mr. Carter 
stood in the doorway and in a voice 



140 Walter Carter. 

vibrant with the yearning love of oil 
'.•• heart, said I tarting bride 

and groom: " The Covenant ' 
with you." That ' was laden 

with the memoi 

in the home throughout the 
and the story of divine faithful- 
r many g< 

tions. 

iber of the same year hi 
who had : his theol 

of the h of Mend- 

ham, 

Smull. 

■ 
rhus the household 1- 
smaller and quieter, tho 

•it from the married members of the 
family, and tho I old horn* 

in tin- country. In both 
Mr. ( 

lnc T .thctic 



Reminiscence. 141 

humanness. He addressed the congrega- 
tion in church and prayer-meeting, and 
after the first visit the question was fre- 
quently asked : ' ' When is your father 
coming again ? " a query which became 
more pressing with the flow of years. 

His power in public address was greatly 
enhanced by his remarkable gift of fitting 
and practical illustration which not only 
enforced the teaching, but also fixed it in 
the memory. Instances have already 
been given. A complete presentation 
would fill a good-sized volume. As illus- 
trative of the growing extravagance in 
popular notions of the necessities of life, 
he would tell of an old Scotchman who 
was asked how it was that he had been 
successful in life whereas his son who had 
better advantages had not prospered. 
"Weel, ye ken," said he, "when my 
guid wife an' I stairted life thegither, we 
had the parritch three times a day. When 
we began to get up a bit in the warld, we 
had a chuckie (chicken) noo and then. 



14- Walter Carter. 

But my son John an' his wife, they began 
wi' the chuckic. " 

In illustration of the value of pel 
influence in Christian work .Mr. Carter at 
times told of corn-planting en the farm 

when he v. A little ; 

made in the earth by a skilful st; 

the hoc fi\ I in and 

! the 
planter's implement. That with 

inless 

sure oft In tl 

of his young manhood, there frequently 

County a man whose name 

rd. It was his habit in plant] 
• lure to the ordinary met!. 

.V(\ to 

drop the corn int.. the next hill, lie p] 

rn already 
made the earth firm above 
It was noticed that the corn 
e Sand for 



Reminiscence. 



143 



results than that from any other hand; 
and Mr. Carter gave practical reasons why 
that seed would be more likely to sprout, 
and to be safe before sprouting than that 
which had been planted with less pressure. 
From the illustration he would pass to the 
application of personality to Christian 
work. The work which had the most 
personal impress was the best and most 
fruitful. 

Perhaps none of his illustrations obtained 
more celebrity than that employed one 
evening in the prayer-meeting in the 
Memorial Presbyterian Church, now called 
the Madison Avenue Church. Shortly 
after the great debt of $125,000 had been 
paid off, Mr. Carter arose one Wednesday 
evening and remarked that for a long time 
in that room they had been hearing fre- 
quently of the great burden under which 
the church was resting. They had been 
congratulating themselves on the great 
work that they had been accomplishing, 
and had excused themselves from very 



144 Walter Carter. 

many of the ad aims upon their 

liberality because of the ; which 

they had been payin Bi 

abruptly from these remarks, Mr. I 

11 of the • ■. n of Mel- 

hich, in his boyhood, 
he wa with his 

<»n m..; While liis father w.is 

white- 

• 
neath the l 

and lie on his 
which had 

lookii, 

carvin 

by th< 

the little I 

them . 

I 

■ 

strain; *, and 



Reminiscence. 



145 



his eyes were turned upward and his face 
was distorted in pain, as if the agony of 
the burden were greater than he could 
bear. In the lapse of centuries, by the 
hand of the destroyer, the arch had been 
broken down ; but, though the weight was 
removed, the figure carved in stone re- 
tained its old expression of agony. 

The incongruity of it had appealed 
strongly to his boyish nature, and now it 
seemed remarkably applicable to the con- 
dition of the Memorial Church. Once 
they had had a great burden, a mighty 
debt; but that debt had been removed, 
and still they were talking about the pres- 
sure that was upon them, and the necessi- 
ties that they were under, forgetting that 
all that had passed away. The pastor of 
the church, Dr. Chas. S. Robinson, told 
the story in the presence of a number of 
distinguished clergymen, among whom 
was Dr. Henry H. Jessup of Beirut, Syria. 
Not long after, Dr. Jessup was elected 
moderator of the General Assembly, and 



146 Walter CarU r. 

in the course of their discussions, ])r. 
Jessup in speaking of the Church's attitude 

and the 
debt which had been paid, used this illus- 
: fur the en nt and stimula- 

tion of the- Chun The author's 

name iv< n ; but the influei 

the Christian elder in 

of his thou felt throughout the 

and breadth of the Church lie so 
much loved. 



VIII. 

DURING these years the family life 
was saddened by the painful and 
continued illness of the youngest daughter, 
Jessie, who had grown to a beautiful young 
womanhood ; and who continued to be the 
darling of the family. Various experiments 
were made on her behalf, and visitations 
to different health resorts. At length, 
while at the home of her brother, then 
settled in Williamsport, Pa., in the month 
of July, 1890, she passed from the seen 
and temporal to the unseen and eternal. 

A life so lovely, in the seclusion of 
suffering and sanctified happiness, is rare 
indeed. Her childhood was sunny and 
joyous. She was a winning little thing, 
— merry, bright, lively, affectionate. She 
was fond of everybody, and heart-broken 
at any unkindness or ill-temper. 
147 



But the glad childhood ended in an 
nt which uch j >.iin . ind 

■ 

intons. 
I J.i » rfully 

■ 

and ui 

a tin). 

: 

■ 

I 

■ 

which 

must 



Reminiscence. i^cj 

have commanded admiration. She was 
proficient in German, in vocal music, in 
delicate needle-work, a dainty artist with 
pencil and water-color, a fine reader. 
Yet she never sighed for the distinction or 
the pleasures denied to her, but was con- 
tented and happy in her limited sphere, 
tenderly considerate of others, emp I 
her unusual powers of mind in the loving 
study of God's Word and works. 

During her last days on earth, burning 
with fever, racked with pain, she uttered 
no impatient word. Her chief thought 
was for the watchers by her couch, to 
spare them trouble, to thank them for the 
smallest service. 

" Very early in the morning, as it began 
to dawn toward the first day of the week,' 
she asked her sister. "Is it so dark out- 
side ? ' ' The light being then extin- 
guished, and the curtains raised, bright 
sunshine streamed in. Looking up with 
a sweet smile, she exclaimed repeatedly, 
"What a change In the funeral 



ISO Walter Carter. 

address, her brother recalled this, saying, 
"She lias in the dim gaslight 

of this world into the sunlight of the 
eternal Sabbath. " 

•i after noon, her famih 
alx.ut her. She n >und at them, 

id, " When shall we all 

of my soul, " v. the dyin 

joining in I 

her i I 

which 

when her lips -till moved with the i 

When 

\ 

in me. In my i many 

I have 
I ■ • 
you. And if I go and prepare a pli 



Reminiscence. 151 

you, I will come again, and receive you 
unto Myself, that where I am, there ye 
may be also. ' ' 

The physician who attended her said, 
4 ' That death-scene was better than all the 
sermons I have ever heard." She asked 
to have her hands crossed upon her breast, 
then said, "Oh, Father, take me!" 
Later, she asked, "Did you hear Him? 
He spoke! " 

Very tremulous, at the last, were the 
voices that sang: 

"While I draw this fleeting breath." 

They sang to the end, but they knew 
she had no more need of earthly music. 
She had entered her Father's house with 
song. 

From this time the bereaved mother 
failed rapidly, despite the care and devo- 
tion lavished upon her by those who 
remained in the home. Her health, 
always delicate, had been undermined by 
successive attacks of pneumonia. For 



152 Walter Carter. 

several years she rarely left the house 

during winter v 

did she relinquish her position 

of the household, or her interest in public 

affairs. 1 I 

only with much patience. inner 

main: 

I 

Of the 

! • • their 

aid. Sheenjoyi 

mingling brightly and • th the 

• 
Whili 

I, and ifll 

would ■ :• hi with ■ 

smile, and i ! that 

it mala ut it might 



Reminiscence. \ 5 3 

be a great shock to my family. ' ' At the 
close of March, 1893, she took a slight 
cold which developed rapidly. The skill 
of an expert physician, accompanied by 
careful nursing, warded off the dreaded 
pneumonia ; but on the morning of April 
6th, in a moment hardly to be defined, 
the weary heart faltered and failed, and 
her sufferings were at an end. 

Dazed by the suddenness of the event, 
Mr. Carter nevertheless attended to all 
necessary arrangements without any indi- 
cation of the effect which the blow had 
had upon him, until he found himself alone 
with his daughter, Agnes, who had re- 
mained in the home. Then he said to 
her, with his usual forgetfulness of him- 
self: " My poor child, it is worse for you 
than for me. I'll not be here very long, 
but you have your life before you. ' ' As 
in all the former trials of his life, he was 
sustained by the hand of his Heavenly 
Father ; and he went forward in the might 
of faith. The unseen country he felt to 



154 Walter Carter. 

be near, and the hour of his own departure 
he was persuaded was i He 

'" life with resolution 
and chcerfulne- 
children and his little granddaughter, and 

i k which was alwa) 
to liim in the v. 

•tin- which si: 

■ 

wifr and mot] r last 

wislu 

. here. 

hi 

Gener 

■ 

went to 1 the 

bly during the inci- 

of the fa: There 



Reminiscence. 155 

Mr. Carter met many friends, and was 
joined by his daughter, Mrs. Henry, with 
her family. During the following summer 
he was present at the August conference 
in Northfield, into the spirit of which he 
entered with great delight; and from that 
time it seemed possible to him once more 
to resume his public work of addressing 
audiences on religious and missionary 
subjects. 

The following three winters Mr. Carter 
and his daughter spent in Morristown, 
N. J., where he had many relatives and 
friends, taking an active interest in the 
South Street Church and in the Market 
Street Mission, where his voice was heard 
frequently and his presence heartily wel- 
comed. In the summer of 1S94 he took 
his daughter, Agnes, to Europe, his mind 
on the alert to receive fresh impressions. 
He seemed to renew his youth in the 
rapid succession of new and strange 
scenes. He was especially enthusiastic 
over the recent excavations which have 



*56 Walter Carter. 

revealed to modern eyes ancient Rome 

With its high material civilization and 

refined barbarity. Most of all v. 

pleased with all that was connected with 

the life of Paul the apostle. To stand in 

the Mamertine Prison, to rid, 

AppknVl I the nam 

mus and Tryphena and Ti 

tl " 
hii 

old h <™e in Scotland, but tl, 

■ him 
»d. He returned full of brighl 

an ' ! ' ] y fi»ed with the spirit of 

travel; and hardly wa 

Planning for a trip to th, West in the fol- 

low ing summer. 
In May, 

I eneral A 
,e " had ■ morc frc _ 

quentiy honored than himself 
to the highest court of the Church 
this occasion he accepted the task reluc- 



,as 



Reminiscence. 



57 



tantly, feeling that his strength was hardly 
adequate to such strenuous service as he 
had often rendered. The question of 
the new Presbyterian Building on Fifth 
Avenue and Twentieth Street, New York, 
was to come before that Assembly; and, 
though Mr. Carter specially requested that 
he should not be put on any committee, 
yet it was felt that one who knew the his- 
tory of the case from the beginning and 
was recognized as a judge of the value of 
New York real estate, could not be spared 
at such a crisis. The first meeting of the 
Committee on Home Missions demon- 
strated the value of his presence there. 
His calm, clear, and forceful statements 
and moderate counsels tended to avert 
conflict and allay opposition ; and so led 
the way to the decision which at last pre- 
vailed. 

During the hearing on behalf of the 
cause of Foreign Missions, the late Dr. 
Gillespie made an eloquent appeal for the 
raising of the heavy debt which lay upon 



*$& Walter Carter. 

the Board, lamenting the impossibility, in 
consequence of the deficit, of sending as 
SIK ; irted I >r. Good of 

Africa, a young man who with his wife 
stood ready to fill the vacant post. In the 
enthusiasm thus aroused it was propo 
• ll "" l ' ' :-.• for tin's 

latter purpose, and for the first year's 
salary of the missionary. One after an- 
other sprang to his feet exclaiming: ■• I 
and my church $ioo. M Mr. 

Carter had n< I tter f n „ n 

the church in and did not 

aut - tk either for that or for 

the church which he then was attending. 
So on ln's own behalf, he said quietly: 
•• 1 will give fifty dollars." The modera- 
tor, Dr. Robert R. Booth, hearing th 
exclaimed with warmth: " God bless you, 
r, and bless all of the Carter 
name who came over from Scotland to 
help us. " 

At the adjournment of the General 
Assembly, Mr. Carter journeyed west- 



Reminiscence. 159 

ward, visiting his only surviving sister, 
then eighty-three years of age, in the 
home of her son, the Rev. Thomas C. 
Kirkwood, D.D., at Colorado Springs. 
Thence he travelled to California, Oregon, 
Washington, and Alaska, returning by 
the Northern Pacific Railway to visit the 
Yellowstone Park. On entering the Na- 
tional Reservation, Mr. Carter stipulated 
that they should have the privilege of 
staying over Sunday at the Fountain 
Hotel. There they found no religious 
service nor any recognition of the day of 
rest. On Monday morning it appeared 
that the party who had entered the park 
a day later than themselves had caught 
up with them. In this party was a lady 
who had been their fellow passenger on 
the steamer Queen in the Alaska trip. 
She entered at once into a conversation 
with Mr. Carter; and, on learning that he 
had rested quietly while she had been 
hurried on through hours of travel and 
sight-seeing the day before, her eyes filled 



j6o 

uilh ' Oh! 1 wish I 

"!: • • I am .. 

■ 



Rem in izcence. 1C1 

enthusiasm which always had charac- 
terized his addresses. The missionary 
features observed in the trip especially 
interested him, particularly the Mormon 
problem and the evangelization of the 
Alaskan Indians. 

In April, 1896, his daughter Agnes 
was married to Mr. Frank G. Mason, a 
lawyer of New York City, great-grandson 
of the Rev. John M. Mason, who was 
pastor of the Scotch church when Mr. 
Samuel Thomson was an elder there. 
The business of his son-in-law rendered 
closer connection with New York neces- 
sary, and Mr. Carter reluctantly relin- 
quished the home in Morristown, which 
had been a most happy one, and selected 
Montclair as a place of residence. He 
was already known to all the Presbyterian 
ministers of the place, and was warmly wel- 
comed in all the churches. While endeav- 
oring to make a difficult choice between 
churches so attractive, he attended the 
prayer-meetings in turn, taking part fire- 



1 62 Walter Carter. 

qucntly and receiving eager attention. 
That his words had a marked effect was 
evident at the time and still more after his 
departure. 

••I know from their own lips," said 
one- of the pastors, "that there arc Chris- 
tians in hfontclair whose names Mr. Carter 

. . 
lifted to a higher level <-f spiritual 
his won! 

"airch member 
Mr. Carter's .].. 
his ad 
Was i: a- he did. and I felt 

almost 

the j • 

During the summer of 1896, Mr. ( 
joined I . and there- 

learned to ride the bicycl< njoyed 

his new accomplishing . and came 

h<»me with some amusinj f his 

experiences. "When you an 
to ride," said he, ant to go | 

and faster. My 1 run ahead 



Reminiscence. 163 

of me and I shouted to him : 4 Get out of 
my way, or I will run right over you. ' ' ' 
When he rode well enough to go alone, 
he still was liable to be " object-struck. ' ' 
His son noticed him to be heading toward 
two trees with the intention of passing 
between them. Near the trees a young 
couple sat on the grass with their backs 
toward him, quite absorbed in their own 
conversation. 

li Look out, Father, don't run into that 
tree, ' ' called his son. 

" No," shouted the clear voice, " I am 
not going to run into that tree, but I am 
going to run into that young couple." 
' ' And you never saw anybody get up and 
scatter as quickly as those two," he 
added gleefully as he told the story. 
Speaking of a conversation with Dr. James 
M. Buckley, editor of the ' ' Christian Ad- 
vocate, ' ' Mr. Carter said : "I met Dr. 
Buckley on the cars to-day and told him 
I had been learning to ride the bicycle. 
I told him my trainer said it was all com- 



164 Walk 

■ i" two n J ou t ip • 

•• I Jr. B : 

:::. Wo; 

Turn . ; :1j. k. 

In t:. 
! hattao 

■ 

the ; 

I the 

for the train in : 

: 

Each 

• Mr. 



Reminiscence. 165 

Carter, son-in-law of Mr. Thomson, the 
founder of the church. ' ' 

' ' Mr. Carter ? why, he is dead ! He 
died seven years ago. I went to his 
funeral. ' ' 

"Oh, no," was the answer, "you are 
mistaken. He is very much alive. This 
is Mr. Walter Carter, not Robert. ' ' 

As both brothers were sons-in-law of 
Mr. Thomson, the mistake was not an 
unnatural one. After an historical address 
by the pastor of the church, Mr. Carter 
gave his reminiscences, speaking extem- 
poraneously with peculiar pathos and 
power. At the close he remarked: "We 
believe in the communion of the saints, 
the saints on earth and the saints in 
Heaven. In this glad hour, Mr. and 
Mrs. Thomson, my dear wife and children, 
and the multitude of the redeemed, who, 
having washed their robes in the blood of 
the Lamb, have gone up from this place, 
and are now before the throne of God, are 
looking from the battlements of Heaven, 



1 66 Walter Carter. 

rejoicing in our joy, and cheering the 
ling church to j 

near in that hour Mi himself 

• i the multitude- of th d. be 

had very little t 

full of life and ( 

runni: up with his friends in the 

and full cf the ! of | 

life. 
In 5 
from Atlantic < !i( l 
mingfa 
"II 
l 

and I COttld drink 

in the Sea-air, and draw in health and 

tr little Elsie's birtl 

■ 

•tie woman she must 
h a grandmother and u 

father and mother' How my 1 

child! Such a comfort 



Reminiscence. 167 

and joy she has been to us all ; the good 
Lord bless her more and more. What 
shall I do without her company when I 
come to see you, and she is in school ? I 
must join the gymnasium too." 

In December, Mr. Carter visited Bir- 
mingham, spending Christmas at his 
daughter's home, taking great delight in 
the companionship of the little grand- 
daughter, so dearly beloved by both 
grandparents. He was always amused 
by her prattle, and her old-fashioned ex- 
pressions drew him out of his loneliness. 
Hand in hand they were accustomed to 
ramble whenever they were in city or 
country; she spoke of him as her 
"Pard," and the fellowship between the 
two was tender and beautiful. In this 
visit he entered into all the festivities with 
his usual bright animation, encouraging 
the young people of the church in their 
meetings and assisting in the decoration 
of the Christmas-tree for his little grand- 
daughter. 



l6S Walter Carter. 

In a special Christma 

Mr. Carter, in the course of a brief address, 
said that he liked to hear the \ 

■ 
mas morning with a " Merry Christmas," 
and i -, D the 

(la >' ' The next 

morn; 

which was thronged with men. 

: i die manly 

I 

n that 

•• I haj I 

m Williau 

and with i 

with 
thai it 

At Willi :,rist- 



Reminiscence. 169 

mas festival of the Sunday-school, sitting 
by the platform, facing the densely- 
crowded room, greatly enjoying the doings 
of the children. Many afterward said 
that his face that night was like a bene- 
diction upon them all, glowing with the 
light of his Saviour. 

On January 4, 1897, he returned to 
Montclair, arriving in the evening, ap- 
parently not greatly fatigued after a 
journey of ten hours. Learning that one 
of the pastors had made a special request 
that he should, if possible, attend the 
opening meeting of the "Week of 
Prayer, ' ' he set forth cheerfully, and made 
a brief address, as he did at each of the 
nightly meetings during that week. 

Few who listened have forgotten the 
earnestness and deep spiritual feeling of 
those little talks. The speaker seemed 
very near to God, as one living in 

" A tent already luminous 
With light that shines through its transparent 
walls." 



i;o 

" 1 he Communion • 
and with much 

not i 

f the 

■ thrill la 

■ 

I 



Rem in iscence, 171 

somewhat wearied by the day's exertion; 
but after a rest, wrote a long business 
letter concerning the property. The next 
morning he wrote his last letter, which 
was addressed to his aged sister living in 
Colorado. That afternoon he walked four 
miles with his daughter, talking with much 
animation, running hither and thither to 
inspect houses, as they were then in search 
of a residence. On his return, he read 
with spirit an amusing book; and, as he 
finished the last page, he laid down the 
volume, laughing heartily and saying: 
"Well, that man is a genius! Now, 
what's the topic for the prayer-meeting ? " 
He had just ended the allotted chapter 
when the bell called them to dinner. 

Shortly after they were seated, his 
daughter was alarmed by his changed ex- 
pression, and by an apparent difficulty in 
handling his fork. At her suggestion he 
went upstairs, supported by his son-in-law 
and a friend. As he rested his head on 
the back of the chair he said : ' ' Too bad 



172 Walter Carter. 

about the prayer-meeting;" and then, 

"Too bad to disturb diem SO." Some- 
what later lu- 
scious and intelligent, conversing with 
those about him. 
When he was made comfortable, his 

him, and said: 

" Shall we have pi w ? " 

His son-in-law began the familiar 
psalm : •' '! Shepherd/' and 

the first psalm and die last that the 

• < >ur 
Father, " « more the voice which 

led that 

th, and added at the 
close: 

" Bless us all. 1 who have 

Amen. " 
r he fell asleep, and so 



Reminiscence. 173 

continued without return of consciousness 
for twenty-four hours. As he lay breath- 
ing deeply, he looked so natural and 
reposeful that it seemed to those watching 
that " If he sleep, — he shall do well." 

' ' Dear Uncle Walter, ' ' softly exclaimed 
a niece who stepped gently into the silent 
room, "he looks just as he always did. 
I can't believe it. The doctor must be 
mistaken. " 

But the physician's experience gave no 
ground for hope from the outset; and as 
the hours crept by, the heavy breathing 
grew a little fainter and less regular. 

" So fades a summer cloud away ; 

So sinks the gale when storms are o'er ; 
So gently shuts the eye of day ; 

So dies a wave along the shore." 

There was time for his only remaining 
brother to come and stand beside his bed. 
But the beloved son and daughter, speed- 
ing over the long lines of rail between 
their homes and his, came not until the 
sleep had ended. At seven in the evening 



] 7\ Wall • 

rowing 

' •!. the bl 
It 



VII. 

ON Monday, January 25, Trinity 
Church, Montclair, N. J., was filled 
with those who gathered to do honor to 
one whose activity had brightened more 
lives than it is permitted to most men to 
touch with influence; and, as one after 
another rose to speak of what he had 
known of the life of Walter Carter, many 
were the faces bathed in tears. Not only 
those assembled there, but far and wide 
from Atlantic to Pacific, and on the 
islands of both eastern and western seas, 
were those possessing a sunny remem- 
brance of a face aglow with the light of 
God, a grasp instinct with His love, and 
a voice vibrant with His joy. 

The following friends of Mr. Carter 
acted as pall-bearers: Messrs. John E. 
i75 



I7 r ' Walter Carter. 

;. Kiliaen Van Ran- 

■ 1 .1 | 
Parke 

1 'rvillc 

I 

' 

■ 
"It 



Reminiscence. 177 

in upon me does not find ready utterance 
in words. I cannot but feel that in some 
sense I am here to acknowledge a debt 
that I can never pay; a debt to the good 
friend who has just been taken from us, 
and to those who have been bound to him 
by the closest ties of kinship. 

' ' Thirty-one years ago and a little 
more, I saw the earthly form of his mother 
laid in its last resting-place, feeling still 
the impress of her motherly kiss on my 
cheek, realizing that something had gone 
out of my life, a power and a presence 
that had thrown its spell over my boy- 
hood, and been a constant incentive to 
worthy endeavor. 

' ' That very day I offered myself as a 
candidate for the Christian ministry. Not 
until a year ago, and then from the lips 
of him who is now silent before us, did I 
learn that this revered and gracious 
mother, as she looked out from the little 
cottage by the brook at the barefoot boy 
passing by, was wont to offer the prayer 



i;S 

that he might 

>mpre* 
hcnd tl 

" 'I ': 

mine 

■ 

■ 



Reminiscence. 179 

childhood, and turn my thoughts to things 
heavenly and divine. In still later years, 
I have known him intimately, not merely 
as a factor in the mercantile life of a great 
city, but as filling a very much larger 
space in that world of Christian thought 
and effort and experience which was so 
dear to him. There he has made his 
name the synonym for probity and fidelity, 
for kindliness and helpfulness. In labor- 
ing and praying for the best things, he 
gained the meekness of wisdom, and the 
wisdom of meekness. He served his gen- 
eration according to the will of God, and 
has ' ' fallen on sleep. ' ' It has pleased God 
to give him a peaceful exit from what we 
call the land of the living, to join the 
glorious company of those who live for- 
ever. 

' ' One thought that impresses itself on 
my mind as I stand here, is that Christian 
training, unshaken belief in the great 
verities of the Christian religion, and dili- 
gence in Christian service stand the 



I So Walter Carter. 

test, — especially that crowning test of all 
things, the question : ' What is the fruit 
thereof?' We who have known and 
loved this man of God, and have felt his 
influence in so many interests that are 
dear t<> God and to all good men, who 
have recognized his strength under trial, 
and his helpfulness to those in trouble, 
who have been cheered by the bright and 

breezy atmosphere which attended him, 

and by his unclouded view of the world 
eternal, cannot but confess that there is 
something in Christian faith and life that 
something that makes human char- 
acter symmetrical and strong, and that 
brings its gracious reward to such as 
know its power. 

"I observed the form in which our 
friend's departure was announced in the 
death notices. 'Entered into glory,' and 
could not refrain from repeating to myself 
the couplet: 

" ' The men of grace have found 
Glory begun below.' 



Reminiscence. 1 8 1 

' ' I think of no one to whom there 
would be less sense of shock or change in 
passing from this present world into the 
world beyond. The things which he lived 
for, the things which filled his mind and 
delighted his heart here, are the things 
which will occupy and delight him in the 
heavenly country to which he has gone. 
It will be to him no strange region. He 
is gathered not only to his fathers, but to 
his children. Absent from the body, he 
is at home with the Lord. We who are 
assembled here do not sorrow as those 
who have no hope. We rejoice rather in 
the course that has been run, we rejoice 
in the blessed assurance that his life, 
released from the cumbering flesh, is now 
developing under the smile of God, and in 
the companionship of the Saviour whom 
he trusted and adored. God give us grace 
to follow in such ways that for us the end 
may be peace. ' ' 

The Rev. Edward S. Wolle, pastor of 
the Moravian Church of Philadelphia, then 



1S2 Walter Carter. 

spoke of his relation to Mr. Carter u 

follows: 

"Dear friend-. | arcely know why, 
out of the large tin. I 

the intimate- of our departed brother, it 
should have fallen to my lot I 
this occasion. But I am here to-day, in 

order I in testimony of 

what is in his home. I 

cann< • many y< 

acquaintance with hii i who 

• 

tively laint- 

. which lias pr<N c 1 to n 

helpful an In the 

SUmOM ' Pa . where 

ther with his family be 

month <>r more 

• on stud) ing on the 
of a 

use i;i the I 

in the world. It v....- my privilege at this 
time to take the place of guide, and to 



Rem in iscencc . 183 

open to his view something of the history 
of Bethlehem. We visited the old church 
and ancient houses that stand as monu- 
ments to the faith and courage of the early 
settlers, who were so intent on doing the 
Lord's work. The deep interest with 
which he entered into the church-life dur- 
ing this visit endeared our friend to us 
all. 

lt In the autumn of the same year came 
my call to serve the Church in Brooklyn, 
N. Y. ; and, during the years of this my 
first pastorate, the acquaintance begun at 
Bethlehem ripened into the friendship that 
has proved such a blessing. It was in his 
own house, where I found myself a fre- 
quent and welcome guest, that the life of 
the departed appeared most beautiful. 
He loved his home; and all who entered 
it realized that here was a family that truly 
lived in the love of God. There was 
nothing that more impressed those who 
knew Mr. Carter best than just this. He 
lived in the love of God, and the gentle 



1 84 Walter Carter. 

and genial influences of his life were felt 
by all with whom he came in touch. 

" Truly it was an unto!<. to the 

young man starting out in his mini 

come under the influence 

of one who so truly exemplified in his 
w..rd and act the I ■ ,f the 

whom 1 

ly, and whom it was his pleasure to 

about ■ «i of this ood man that 

made him seem dil 
He truly had within him a well- 
whit h kept up 

his home a • As 

1 canu York thi 

h He 
>n the ni 
His betrayal: 'Father, I will that they 

with 
Me where I am, that tl. hold 

iry, which Thou has given 

lit to mind the 
vision of that brighter ai 



Reminiscence. 185 

where the circle is ever widening, and 
where we shall soon all be gathered, and 
shall realize that we are indeed one family. 
"To our dear friend, Mr. Carter, 
Heaven was a reality, and one could not 
long be in his company without being im- 
pressed with this fact. Like Abraham of 
old, he, too, ' looked for a city which 
hath foundations, whose builder and maker 
is God.' Heaven was his home, and his 
thoughts and longings were there. And 
now, for him, faith has been changed into 
sight, and hope has met its full fruition. 
We believe that he lias just begun to live ; 
that death has been to him but an experi- 
ence in life, and that he has now entered 
into the glory of the redeemed, and sees 
Him whom he loved while here and served 
so well. May we each and all follow in 
his footsteps and be permitted when life's 
course is run to share with him the full 
enjoyment of the pleasures which await 
God's dear children at His own right 
hand. ' ' 



1S6 Walter Carter, 

The congregation then united in si- 
the familiar hymn, beginning: 

" Hon 

After which the- Rev. William F. Junldn, 
1).D. II. 
terian Chin 

"1' my 

■ 

am u 

•• M: 

some nine or 



Reminiscence. 187 

him most strongly to a great many people. 
I do not wonder that those who knew him 
through long years of cherished friendship 
are glad to speak the words of admiration 
and affection to which we have just lis- 
tened. He well deserved them all. He 
spoke to us in our prayer-meetings, and 
the people heard him with great pleasure 
and profit. He mingled in the social life 
of the community only to a limited degree ; 
but whenever he was brought into contact 
with any of our people — I can bear testi- 
mony from the hearts and lips of a great 
number — he drew to himself their tender 
love, their highest appreciation and almost 
their reverence. His most prominent 
characteristic was his religion, so simple 
and yet so strong, so humble and yet so 
assured, never self, but always Christ. 

' ' There must have been underneath a 
life like that some wonderful power, some 
mighty influence, that bore it up; some- 
thing that gave it that divine energy and 
cheerfulness that have been referred to by 



' 



-:- 




: 






190 Walter Carter. 

appropriate and tutiful endi 

such a life, the 

mellow m ht th.it 

ber khan tin noonday 

• 

from M 
f-.r tffc 

; 

I with 

ami ti 

tD the 
children km 



Reminiscc?ice. 



191 



who had shown him so many kindnesses. 
Then he gently fell asleep, the sleep soft 
as that of an infant. He had always been 
a very happy man, for no man lived a 
happier life than Walter Carter; but he 
never knew perfect satisfaction and happi- 
ness until he opened his eyes from this 
last earthly sleep to realize the full mean- 
ing of those wondrous words, ' Satisfied ! 
I shall be satisfied when I awake in His 
likeness. Oh, let me die the death of the 
righteous, and let my last end be like 
His!"' 

The service was concluded by the fol- 
lowing prayer offered by the Rev. Wilson 
Phraner, D.D., of East Orange, N. J.: 

"Almighty and eternal God, our 
Heavenly Father, we rejoice in Thee as 
our God and Father in Heaven. From 
everlasting to everlasting Thou art God. 
God over all and blessed forevermore. 
Thou turnest man to destruction and 
sayest: Return, ye children of men. We 
are but the creatures of a day, crushed 



: 
I 

I 



Reminiscence. 



193 



long continued and that it brought cheer 
and benediction to so many hearts. We 
thank Thee, O our heavenly Father, that 
Thy servant was what he was ; and that 
by Thy grace he was enabled to do what 
he did for the blessing of many and for the 
upbuilding of Thy kingdom. We thank 
Thee, God, for all the tokens of Thy 
favor toward Thy servant, for the whole 
record of his life so marked with the mani- 
festations of Thy love and favor. We 
rejoice in these precious memories. May 
they abide with us for our blessing to the 
end. May these recollections stimulate 
our faith and courage ; and, as we recall 
the character and spirit of Thy servant, 
may we be led to follow him in so far as 
he followed Christ. We especially at this 
time invoke Thy blessing, O God, upon 
this afflicted family circle, bowed as they 
are before Thee in their deep sorrow, yet 
in their very heart of hearts rejoicing and 
giving thanks in the memory of Thy great 
goodness to them and to him who has 



i rter, 

from them; upon these children 

and I | 

I 

Thine 



Reminiscence. 195 

abounding- grace unto eternal life. And 
now, O Father, we leave ourselves in 
Thine hand. We commit our way to 
Thee. Wilt Thou direct our steps ? We 
are ignorant and know not what a day 
may bring; but we leave the future all 
with Thee, desiring only to know and to 
do Thy will and to accomplish the work 
which Thou hast given us here to do. 
Give us grace to be found faithful even 
unto the end. Like Thy servant, may we 
serve our generation ; and, having done the 
will of God, "fall on sleep." Like one 
of old and even as Thy servant, may it be 
said of us : ' He walked with God and he 
was not, for God took him. ' Guide us, 
O Lord, by Thy counsel through all the 
trials and sorrows that await us here, and 
when Thou hast wrought Thy will in us 
and accomplished Thy will by us, then 
in Thine own time and way take us also 
to join the great company which have 
gone before. Take us even to the joy of 
Thy presence and to the glory of Thy 



trter. 

; 



Rcvi in isccnce. 197 

but that released spirit in the home eter- 
nal, entering upon the triumph appointed 
to the victors, rather would we address in 
words spoken above the casket of one of 
his contemporaries: " At the grave's edge 
we say to thee, Good night! Through 
the veil we shout to thee, Good morning ! " 



J«ly-te.3QCH 



JUN 26 190! 









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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 

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